


azure skyline

by youngjo



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Kim Youngjo - Freeform, M/M, More tags will be added!, Seonghwa has a dog, Stalking, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Yeo Hwanwoong - Freeform, but with a twist!, slowburn, the idol/fan au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25526038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: Following a bad decision involving four day old pizza, Hongjoong's life is turned upside down after his new neighbor finds him passed out on his kitchen floor—the new neighbor that turns out to be hit soloist Mars, the very idol Hongjoong has been a fan of for months.Suddenly, Hongjoong is pulled into Seonghwa's orbit, and their lives begin to meld in more ways than one.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 19
Kudos: 95





	azure skyline

**Author's Note:**

> h hello,, welcome to this fic ;v;
> 
> this fic has been a passion project of mine for close to three years now! it's been rewritten for three different fandoms before finally becoming an ateez fic, me slowly working on it whenever I had the motivation! I've decided to post part one of it, and I hope that someone loves it as much as I do! keep in mind that this is a culmination of three years and though I went through and rewrote/edited a lot of it, there's very likely some small inconsistencies and spelling mistakes I missed, I apologize!
> 
> stalking is tagged on this fic, but it's not via hongjoong I promise! with that said, I hope you enjoy!

Hongjoong liked his apartment well enough. Sure, it was small, with paper thin walls and a total of four leaks in the roof—curse living on the top floor—but it was home. His home. Cobwebbed corners, the distant sound of traffic, and water that never seemed to get warm enough; they were all things that, to a normal person, would make his apartment unlivable. But to Hongjoong, this handful of messy traits and little imperfections suited him, for they were just as mismatched and unwanted as he was.

The bustle of outside lent the soundtrack of his stay. Distant car horns from impatient commuters, displeased neighbors yelling at night, with a sprinkle of planes carrying people to far off lands, and finally topped with passing train cars full of weary souls. And, again, the sounds of his neighbors … because paper thin walls and all.

The first time he heard them fight, he had been standing in his kitchen struggling with a jar of pickles. Their raised voices were so startling that he had dropped the jar, popping the lid free and sending juice every which way upon his floor. (Yes, he did eat a floor pickle—no he’s not proud of it.) This was the bright side of the situation though … if you could ignore the faint smell of pickle juice forever seeped into his tile. After that, it grew worse, cutting through the ambiance of life. They roused him from naps and forced him to mute his microphone during video game time. They made it even worse by cutting through his important recordings. In the beginning, he smacked his fist against the wall in anger, which did the trick for about a week or so. Then they went right back to not caring, and Hongjoong was brought back to square one of annoyances.  _ Plus one neighbors, Hongjoong zero. _

Tonight showed no break in routine. The couple, a man and a woman, had been screaming at each other for a solid twenty minutes already. The walls kept their voices muffled enough that Hongjoong couldn’t pick out precisely what they were saying, but loud enough to destroy his attempts at a peaceful evening.

“What the hell do they even argue about every day? So annoying,” he muttered, hunched over his desk. It sat in the far corner of his room, beneath his only window overlooking the city. A view like his, from a studio apartment noless, was a rarity, and Hongjoong appreciated the creativity it seemed generous enough to grant him.

How could he afford such a luxury in the first place? He worked at a local pet store, caring for the in-store pets and owning the title of head groomer. When he wasn’t there, he was at home tapping away at worn down laptop keys. Hongjoong loved music, and music tolerated him enough back to provide him with the ability to string lyrics and beats together. If he really wanted to, he could’ve auditioned for a local entertainment agency months ago. He would’ve passed with relative ease, but Hongjoong didn’t enjoy being told what to do. The man liked music his way.

In fact, he liked his entire life that way. For this exact reason, he lived in a tiny studio apartment with a leaky roof, thin walls, and screaming neighbors.

Leaning back in his chair, his gaze swiveled upwards. Right on cue, the first drops of rain bounced against the ceiling above. Only a moment passed before the downpour began, and Hongjoong glanced behind him at the four buckets strategically placed to catch the drops. His smile was subtle and with the sound of rain and distant thunder to drown out his neighbors, he got back to work.

—————— xxx —————

The screech of his alarm cut through his dream, jolting him awake. Hongjoong groaned, arm poking out into the cold air to fish around for the offending device. His screen exploded with light and he grumbled as he swiped the ‘dismiss’ button. Arm retreating back into the blanket, he squinted at the blinking lights of his wifi modem. He didn’t have work today and muttered some curses at his past self for forgetting to switch the alarm off. WIth a soft exhale, Hongjoong rolled over and let his mind drift back into sleep.

A loud bang awoke him next, Hongjoong snapping upright. He squinted against the bright sunlight peeking through the blinds of his slider. His first thought was the delivery man, for he had a package on the way, but no knock came at his door. Another thump! followed, this time accompanied by voices. Were his neighbors already fighting at—he snatched up his phone—noon?  _ On a Saturday? _

Hongjoong groaned. He knew there was no way he could fall back asleep with the two of them making a constant racket. Good side of it, he supposed, was he could get an early start to his day. Rising into a stretch, he tossed his phone upon his pillow and set about gathering clothes for a shower. An activity that made him painfully aware of his need to do laundry.

By the time he located clean boxers and finished his morning routine, it was nearly one. The sun had perched itself high in the sky, sending sunlight streaming across his floor, and he could hear a bird or two hopping around on the roof above. Hongjoong emptied the buckets from last night’s storm, taking a moment to water the tiny spring onion by his sink, before placing the buckets back into their designated spots. He’d been awake for less than an hour but his day already felt so impossibly long. On the bright side, he no longer heard any ruckus from beyond the kitchen.

He collapsed back upon his bed, lifting his phone to his face. His stomach rumbled right as he turned the screen on. Perfect timing too, actually, as he stared at the notification glaring brightly back at him. An invitation to late lunch by one of his coworkers-turned-friend, a man known as Song Mingi. Tapping back a confirmation, Hongjoong rested his phone against his chest. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling and enjoyed the eerie quiet blanketing his apartment.

—————— xxx —————

“Yeah man, it was weird, but like … really satisfying to see?” Hongjoong shoved a french fry into his mouth, munching loudly.

The person opposite him, a younger man with messy brown hair and excitable personality, perked up at the sound of his voice. His name was Song Mingi, one of Hongjoong’s coworkers whom he had befriended.

“Well yeah, don’t they fight every night? You should be happy.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he mumbled, mouth full of food, “I am. Just weird to see their things strewn around so … precariously? It’s like they didn’t even pack, just threw everything into the hallway.”

“Oooh, maybe they were evicted.” Mingi gently tapped the table. “Too many noise complaints, eh? You can’t be the only one bothered by them.”

Hongjoong let out a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s more likely. Still, being loud has no correlation with how you treat your things, right? Regardless of eviction, I would take more care in packing my stuff.”

“What stuff? You have, like, nothing! Actually wait, that’s not entirely true.” And Mingi fixed him with an intense stare, making Hongjoong pause in taking a bite from his chicken. “You’d need like four boxes for all of your Mars merch.” 

“Hey now, you’re not much better.” Hongjoong downed the rest of his beer, squinting in Mingi’s direction. “And you’ve been a fan for less time than I have.”

The offending party scratched the back of his neck under the dangerous aura. “Listen … I didn’t deny it! We have our tastes, it’s fine. You even remember his name?”

“Hwanwoong, main dancer and vocalist of Oneus. Of course I did my homework, who do you think I am?”

Mingi’s eyes lit up, clearly proud of Hongjoong’s knowledge. Or his efforts; either was fine with him. He idly picked at his noodles. “You have so much free time compared to me.”

He laughed, setting his empty glass back upon the table. “You have the same amount. I just know how to use mine better.” Hongjoong lifted another fry. “Besides, you know I like hearing new music. They’re pretty good. Totally see why you’re a die hard fan.”

“Haha, he’s just really captivating. Mars has a strong presence too. Sunrise really lucked out on signing both of them!” Mingi exclaimed, sipping his soda.

Hongjoong hummed his agreement. “You finally listen to his pre-debut singles?”

“Uh …” Mingi smiled sheepishly, earning a frown. “Don’t worry, Joong! I’ll do it by work tomorrow. Promise!” He gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, flicking a chopstick into the air in the process. It landed neatly in Hongjoong’s empty glass, a moment of silence passing between the duo before the table erupted into laughter.

Hongjoong loved the relaxed atmosphere Mingi provided, even if he was the primary reason they got into trouble. Well, that wasn’t the whole truth. Hongjoong was pretty good at getting them into trouble too, but they had a lot of fun together. They’d only been friends for about six months but their friendship had come so naturally it felt like a lifetime. Below the surface, Hongjoong knew more about Mingi than the latter knew about him. Hongjoong knew of Mingi’s love for Oneus. He knew how he wished to audition for their company but was too afraid of failing to gain enough courage. He knew of his love for sweet things, his 4D personality, and how much he loved the animals he tended to at their workplace.

Ming knew only superficial details of his life. Not for lack of sharing of course, though that was part of it. Hongjoong just wasn’t the type to spill his life story with everyone he met, especially if he didn’t know how long he would remain in a specific location. His life had been a constant tangle of moving ever since he was a young child, parents uprooting him and dragging him to new places all over the globe without a moment’s notice. But this job, this apartment, the friends he’d made … they were all gained through his own abilities; they were supposed to be permanent this time. Mingi hadn’t questioned him yet, though he’d hinted at wishing to know more on a handful of occasions. Maybe he knew Hongjoong wasn’t quite ready and he appreciated that more than he could put into words.

His eyes flicked up to Mingi’s face, the other man happily snacking on the ice cream he’d bought for dessert. Perhaps in time he would share the details of his arrival there. Already he knew Mingi was someone he could trust—he’d put him down as an emergency contact, for goodness sake. But now he just needed the extra push.

Mingi looked up and caught his eyes, mumbling around his ice cream. “Why are you smiling? Is there something on my face?”

“There’s nothing, I promise. Just thought of something funny.” His friend still raised a hand to swipe at his mouth, searching for food that wasn’t there. Hongjoong tilted his head back and laughed. “You’re eating an ice pop, Mingi. It’d take a special kinda skill to get that to stick to your face.”

“Well, I’d be the one to figure it out. Did you know I managed to get a Skittle stuck up my nose once?” 

“Okay nevermind, I don’t wanna hear anymore.”

Their conversation devolved into more laughter and mundane topics after that. The atmosphere was warm but laid back, and they soon lost track of time. It wasn’t until Mingi glanced at his phone and realized he was going to be late for work that they parted ways.

Outside the restaurant, the sky lay heavy with distant rain clouds and lightning flashing along the horizon. The air felt damp, clinging to his skin in an uncomfortable way, and Hongjoong didn’t bother taking his time heading home; he did not feel like riding his motorcycle home in the rain. He had to make sure his buckets were properly placed too.

As he entered the lobby his building, one of the lights on the far side flickered out. Hongjoong eyed it warily as he approached the elevator. He pushed the ‘up’ button and was met with nothing.  _ Uh … weird.  _ His finger jabbed into the button more times than he bothered to count, and after waiting for a solid minute, he finally gave up. Resigning to the fact that the elevator was broken, he glanced at the doorway leading to the staircase. Looked like it was four flights of stairs and a phone call to maintenance for the end of his afternoon.

After trekking up seemingly endless stairs, dropping his phone once, and barely making it before rain began to pelt the roof, his eyes came across the only saving grace for the evening.

Stuck to his neighbor’s door, contrasting starkly against the deep brown wood, was a pink piece of paper declaring eviction. His neighbors had officially been shoved from the nest.

And in turn, life threw him a curve ball he was never expecting.

—————— xxx —————

A week passed, full of rain-soaked buckets and peaceful nights, and Hongjoong could hardly believe his luck. Being able to sleep in until noon without the sound of loud footsteps and raised voices was a blessing. 

It didn’t take long for someone else to move in, however. Things like that happened quickly among the hustle of the city. You let, and all traces of you were scrubbed to allow the next person to move in. It was strange, honestly, how you could spend so much time in a location, making it your home, only to vanish within a day. People were quick to forget you, and life moved on. The flow of fate didn’t divert often from this cycle. Sometimes, however, fate made an exception. This was what happened to Hongjoong.

One sunny afternoon, when he was already late to work, the universe went forth with its plan. Hongjoong rushed out of his door with an apple in one hand and a jumble of keys in the other. He barely had enough sense to lock said door before turning to dash down the hallway. Along the way, he nearly tripped over some boxes. Hongjoong didn’t really have time to stop and think about it then, but they were, in fact, piled out front of the apartment his noisy neighbors used to reside in. There was no time for a hello, not when he was already minutes late. Someone stood within, hunched over a desk, and he tossed a  _ ‘sorry!’ _ in their direction. Hongjoong barely heard the soft apology in response. The owner of the voice called out to him but he didn’t have time to stop and chat, especially since maintenance still hadn’t been kind enough to fix the elevator.

He made it work fifteen seconds before his grace period ended.

Hongjoong burst through the front door, shooting an immediate glare in the general direction of Mingi’s laughter. His manager sighed in the distance but gave him a thumbs up, signaling his success, and the tension being held in his body rapidly drained; he’d made it. For several seconds, he allowed himself to catch his breath, before finally heading to the break room to hang up his coat. The blue apron with his name on it sat neatly on its hook in the corner. Snatching it off the wall, Hongjoong hurried into the main shop area and made a beeline for his station.

There were three grooming stations at the back of the store, sectioned off by a little gate meant to keep the few dogs who did escape their clutches from running wild in the store. The stations were aluminum counter-like structures with a wash basin on one side and the grooming table on the other, a whole array of soaps and tools kept in small pouches clipped to the sides. Hongjoong usually worked at the middle station, and Mingi had claimed the first for himself long ago.

Partner in crime number one was currently there, humming softly as Hongjoong approached. “Sleep through your alarm again?” Mingi chuckled, scrubbing shampoo into the small chihuahua currently settled at his station.

“Yeah, yeah. It was a good dream though, in my defense.” He started his set up routine, washing out the basin and checking all the leash clips. There were rarely clients so early in the morning so Hongjoong was a bit surprised to see Mingi already scrubbing away. Upon closer inspection, and by that he just leaned over a bit, he realized it belonged to the owner’s son. Mingi happened to be the only other human the little dog liked enough not to bite. So he got the lucky job of tending to the tiny tremor with paws, but Mingi never complained considering the tips that often followed.

“Good dream, eh? Care to share with the class?” 

Hongjoong scoffed, flicking water at Mingi’s back; the man actually shrieked. “Absolutely not. I know how you are.”

“That water is cold you know!”

“Oops, guess my hand slipped,” he teased, reaching around for his appointment sheet. He had a total of eight scheduled appointments that day, one being a large dog shave and he frowned. Not that he hated them but, well, he hated them. The shave, not the large dogs. In particular, he hated the owner the shave was for. Hongjoong hated shaving huskies. They didn’t need it, and he could tell how much the poor baby hated being left there. Luckily the husky trusted him enough these days that Hongjoong could calm her down. (Yes, he had considered snatching her a few times, but he knew she couldn’t live without her owner even if he was an entitled prick.)

Most of his appointments that day were regulars, varying from grooming, bathing, and nail trims. Staring at the schedule though, a name he didn’t recognize popped out at him. It happened to be his first appointment of the day, within the next thirty minutes, for a Shiba Inu named Shiyu. Hongjoong tilted his head. Shibas were a testy breed, but if he had to pick a favorite, it would be them. He didn’t, however, know how the name got there.

“Hey Mingi, do you know who added this client to my schedule?” He held up the clipboard, his friend squinting to read it.

“Maybe boss man? I don’t recognize that name.”

“Hmm, weird.” Well, no matter; he enjoyed meeting new clients. With a bit of time to kill, the man got to work straightening up the grooming center. He swept the leftover clippings from the previous night, cleaned off the extra counter, and refilled the treat containers. By the time his work was done, Mingi’s next client was already there.

Hongjoong glanced around the front of the store, waving his manager, who was currently manning the front checkout; he didn’t see anyone else just yet. As if on cue, the front bell dinged and in walked the cutest Shiba Inu Hongjoong had ever seen. Its owner followed close behind, wearing a hat and face covered, but his attention had been fully captivated by the little dog happily leading its owner into the store. The shiba was all white with just the faintest hint of brown dusted on its face and ears. As it drew closer, Hongjoong could see the same feature scattered down its back; the shiba definitely had to be Shiyu. The reason for her visit was painfully obvious even from the doorway, her little paws absolutely caked in mud. Unfortunately for her owner, it seemed yesterday’s rainstorm created a whole new world for the little dog.

He stepped over the gate, looking between the shiba wagging its little cinnamon bun and the person at the other end of the leash. “Hello! Welcome to Wagging Tails!” Hongjoong looked up, voice fizzling out as he caught their eyes. They were so vividly blue that the only explanation had to be contacts. Clearing his throat, he broke eye contact and looked back to the shiba. “Is this Shiyu?”

The man straightened up a bit, the movement subtle. “Uh, yeah, this is Shiyu.” He made a vague gesture in her direction. “I’ve never really done this before. Do I just leave her with you …?”

That voice sounded so familiar. Hongjoong was one hundred percent certain he’d heard it before, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Were they a former classmate? A past coworker? Someone he’d only met in passing? Or maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him. However, now wasn’t really the time to try and remember every single person he’d ever met. 

So instead, he nodded. “Yep! Just leave her with me, let me know what you want done, and then wait. You can wander the store until we’re done or we can give you a call once she’s finished so you can come pick her up.”

“Ah, okay! Well I’d definitely like a bath,” the man said, pointing at the little dog’s feet, “Since someone doesn’t know how to stay out of puddles.” Shiyu’s tail wagged in response. “I’d love a nail trim too. She’s really gentle and tends to hold still for anything, so you don’t have to worry about her running off. She tends to warm up to people really fast too.”

Hongjoong smiled, turning his attention to the excited Shiba Inu. “Alright, sounds good. We’ll have her little paws looking squeaky clean in no time.” He held a hand out and Shiyu’s leash was gently set within it.

The stranger withdrew, closing the gate behind him, and called out a soft  _ ‘behave!’ _

After a few moments of scratching Shiyu’s incredibly soft ears, he hoisted the cuttle little pup up onto his station. Hongjoong could tell even with just a glance that she was well taken care of and properly spoiled. Shiyu was every bit of friendly as her owner made her out to be, happily accepting pets from both Mingi and Hongjoong. Not once did she whine or nip at him when he got around to clipping her nails, something that shocked him. Shiba Inus were not the friendliest breed, nor did they enjoy having their nails done, but Shiyu defied all of those stereotypes. 

All that remained was her wash.

“That shiba looks so familiar, but I don’t know why.”

The sound of Mingi’s voice caught his attention, his gaze shifting from the wash tub to his friend. “Familiar? How so?”

“Like … I’ve seen her before. It’s been bothering me ever since she got dropped off.”

Hongjoong glanced between Shiyu and Mingi. “I thought the same about her owner. It really feels like I should know him.” He quickly rummaged through the bottles of soap available to him.

“Maybe he’s someone you grew up with?” Mingi leaned over his own counter, taking advantage of his momentary downtime. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, pulling out the bottle he wanted. Grabbing the sprayer, he got to work cleaning the mud from Shiyu’s paws. “I didn’t really have a childhood friend.”

The conversation was left open, but Mingi didn’t bite. They fell into silence, the space between them thick with unasked questions and minds roiling with speculations. Soon, another client arrived for Mingi, and Hongjoong was left to finish scrubbing.

All the mud gone, Hongjoong dried her off and held out a tiny bone-shaped treat; she accepted it happily. He went to reach for the blow dryer, immediately getting a face full of water as the shiba shook herself off. Mingi launched into a laughing fit and Hongjoong stuck his tongue out at him. Shiyu’s owner chose that moment to wander up to the gate, offering a friendly wave. Shiyu’s tail began wagging at once but her owner was shaking his head; he definitely witnessed the wild shake. Despite the mask hiding his features, Hongjoong could tell he was smiling.

“Hold on, cutie. I gotta dry you off first.” Turning the dryer on, he focused on fluffing out her coat again, brushing away all of the extra fur that popped from her undercoat. Once Shiyu was soft and dry, he reached for her leash and set the excited shiba on the floor so they could trot over to her expectant owner. He handed off the receipt of services and chatted with him for a moment, before the duo finally went on their way. Hongjoong watched him go as a million questions churned within but he didn’t really have time to take a breather.

As he marked off Shiyu’s name as finished, his eyes sought out the name of her owner printed neatly; Park S. The name sparked no familiarity, but that didn’t surprise him considering it was only a surname. It gnawed at him how the stranger seemed to be known, poking and prodding at the edges of his mind, but Hongjoong really couldn’t come up with anything. He didn’t have time to stand around and ponder over it, however—there were still many more clients to be seen that morning.

Come lunchtime, Hongjoong’s health had deteriorated a bit. Mingi often teased him for his iron stomach, but the organ in question seemed to be under performing that day. Sharp stabbing pain shot through his lower regions, forcing him to double over in the middle of cleaning. There had already been plenty of worrying over his well being thus far but those concerns only multiplied as Hongjoong leaned over his sink and heaved up his breakfast. That sealed his fate. HIs manager decided he’d had enough and sent him home, giving him strict instructions to lay in bed and rest. Mingi promised to be over with soup or something later. All Hongjoong could muster was a queasy smile before he began his journey home, having assured his coworkers multiple times that he would be alright.

Thank goodness his apartment was only two blocks away; Hongjoong didn’t think he could’ve ridden his motorcycle in his state.

He only threw up two more times along the way. Once into a garbage can, startling a poor mother and her young child, and another into the alley next to his apartment complex. Hongjoong tried his hardest to remember what he’d eaten the last day or two but couldn’t recall anything negative. As he stumbled into the lobby, he spotted maintenance fiddling with the elevator, making him groan at the realization he would have to drag himself up the stairs.

Upon reaching the second floor, it dawned on him. The four day old pizza in his fridge … it had to be the culprit for his current state. Let this be his lesson, no more days old pizza lest he wanted an angry stomach.

By the time he reached the top floor, he felt an uncomfortable rumble in his stomach. The threat was heard loud and clear. Fighting against the sway his vision granted him with, he managed to scurry down the hallway as fast as he could, hastily fumbling with his keys. To his horror, he tripped right over some of the boxes belonging to his new neighbor. Thus, the book fate had begun writing moved into its first chapter, starting with Hongjoong falling head over heels—literally. He clamped a hand over his mouth, fighting down the bile clawing at his throat. There was no time for him to apologize or chat, and he threw open his door with a little too much force. Making it to his kitchen sink in time was pretty much photo finish, and he slid to the floor in relief once his retching stopped. His stomach still grumbled angrily but the pain subsided just enough to allow him to catch his breath. For the moment, he reveled in being able to lean his head against cool wood, fighting to level himself out.

Dog barking broke the silence, Hongjoong nearly leaping from his skin. Vision hazy, he tried to focus on the source of the offending noise. The attempt didn’t last long though, Hongjoong snapping his eyes shut as the world swam before him. He groaned, leaning his full weight against the counter. Claws clicked across his floor, the source of the barking wandering into his apartment like it was meant to be there. Hongjoong felt a paw press against his thigh, a soft whine prompting him to creak open weary eyes. The offender was a little white dog … the same dog he’d groomed that morning.

“Hey, little pup, what are you doing here?” He laughed quietly, raising a trembling hand to pat the concerned shiba inu; his brain still hadn’t made the connection. “I must be dreaming …”

The pup looked between Hongjoong and the door, barking once more. His vision swam again and he caught sight of someone standing in the doorway. Hongjoong should’ve been worried, but all he could feel was exhaustion creeping into his limbs. He wasn’t sure why he felt so tired all of a sudden.

“Shiyu, you can’t ju—oh no, what’d you get us into now?”

Shiyu … It really was the dog from that morning. And that voice … where had he heard it before? A face popped into his mind’s eye but he was unable to grasp it.

“H-hey, are you alright? Hello?” A warm hand pressed gently to his shoulder but Hongjoong didn’t respond. Rather, he couldn’t seem to make his body do so. Everything felt so heavy. “What do I do? Um, um …” The voice trailed off as his consciousness faded, dragging the words he couldn’t seem to form with it.

—————— xxx —————

_ “Stand up straighter, Hongjoong; you’re not common rabble.” _

_ The sound of his father’s voice forced his gaze to the left, the man in question staring at him with a furrowed brow. Hongjoong forced his expression to stay even despite the sour emotions that surged through him. He obeyed because it was the only thing he could do. _

_ “We are here to impress the company’s head, remember? If you’re to take over, you need to learn to be a proper businessman.” _

_ I don’t want your shitty company, he thought, redirecting his eyes forward. The silver elevator doors reflected a person he barely recognized, dressed in a fancy suit and posture stiff.  _

_ “Perfect. Now, don’t say a single word, even if you’re spoken to. You’re not here to make small talk. You hear me?” _

_ “Yes sir,” Hongjoong grumbled, digging his fingers further into his palms. The elevator lurched as they reached their destination floor. _

_ His father stepped forward, Hongjoong glancing at the back of his head. The man’s hair, silver from stress, had been slicked back. His arms were folded behind his back, his back straight and expression neutral. Hongjoong hated how he could stand there so calmly knowing what he was about to do. _

_ The doors finally slid open, revealing four bodyguards waiting on either side of the hallway. Hongjoong followed his father as they stepped into the hallway, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in unease. A woman stood at the far end of the hall, clutching a binder to her chest; she bowed in greeting as they approached. _

_ “Ah, Mr. Park, thank you for joining us.”  _

_ “Thank you for having us.” His father bowed, motioning for Hongjoong to follow suit; he begrudgingly obeyed. He straightened back up, head tilting towards the door. “I understand Mr. Lee is ready to see us now.” It wasn’t a question. _

_ The woman nodded, lowering the binder she was holding. “In a moment. First, I need both of you to sign these documents.” She smiled but it was the furthest from friendly.  _

_ “Mr. Lee said nothing about signing.” Hongjoong glanced to his father. His brow was furrowed in that signature way of his when he grew angry. “My secretary is not accompanying me this evening.” _

_ “Is this not him?” The woman questioned, feigning surprise in Hongjoong’s direction.  _

_ He grimaced, muttering a soft ‘as if.’ His father glared in his direction and Hongjoong knew he would be scolded for the comment on the drive home. For the moment, he turned back to the woman and accepted the documents. Minutes of tense silence passed as his father looked it over and then held out his hand. The woman handed him a pen, and Hongjoong watched him sign. Then the second document and pen were thrust in his direction.  _

_ “Sign this.” These words weren’t a question either.  _

_ Hongjoong snatched the pen with a little too much force—yet another thing he’d get scolded for later. His eyes flicked to the paper, and though he knew his father expected him to just sign it without question, he caught some of the words printed upon it. Hongjoong’s blood ran cold and his head snapped up. _

_ “I’m not signing this.” _

_ His father balked at him. “You can and you will.” _

_ “No! I refuse to associate with a  criminal! ” He hissed, letting the paper fall to the floor. _

_ The woman looked between Hongjoong and his father, her expression twisting into something less than pleasant. “If your son refuses to sign, Mr. Kim, we will have problems.” _

_ Hongjoong glared at her in defiance. “I can sit in the car then. I’ll just wait for you to come out.” _

_ His father turned, and for the first time since he was a child, he saw genuine fear in his eyes. “Don’t be difficult, Hongjoong. Just sign the paper, please.” _

_ Hongjoong grit his teeth. He wanted nothing to do with what would be discussed beyond the heavy oak doors before him but judging from the atmosphere surrounding his body, he knew he wouldn’t be able to freely walk from the building. Swallowing his nerves, Hongjoong made his choice. _

—————— xxx —————

As Hongjoong’s mind came rushing back to him, he became acutely aware of his surroundings. The blankets touching his skin and the sound of beeping were foreign, and he shot upright as a jolt of panic went through him. Hongjoong was sitting in a hospital bed, the sound of his heart monitor staving off the eerie silence threatening to swallow him up. Memories of what had happened before his passing out came rushing back; stomach bug, running up flights of stairs, a dog in his living room.

Hongjoong chanced a glance around. How had he gotten here? The room lay dim and … not empty. Even without looking, he could tell the other presence in the room was a stranger. His eyes zeroed in on them. 

“ _ What the hell. _ ”

His words roused the attention of whoever was in the chair. The first he noticed was the stranger’s dark hair, standing out in stark contrast to the white wall behind his head. Curious eyes met his own, the lower half of the mysterious person’s face obscured by a mask. The stranger stood, Hongjoong eyeing them warily.

“Where am I? Why am I here?” He questioned.

“I know this is probably very, very confusing, but I promise you’re not in any danger. You’re at the hospital. My dog found you passed out on the floor … okay, that sounds really weird.” The stranger took a breath. “But I couldn’t just leave you there.”

Hongjoong inhaled, his chest protesting angrily; there was no way he could afford this hospital bill. Especially not with rent due in two weeks. He rubbed at his temple, clearly bothered. “Ah, the bill for this …”

“U-um, sorry that we met this way … I’m your new neighbor. You can just call me Hwa.” Shuffling feet brought his attention back up, and he watched Hwa make his way to the door. “I’ll go get one of the nurses. Don’t worry about the bill, I already took care of it.”

Before Hongjoong could argue, the man disappeared out the door, leaving him to stare in disbelief. He pinched his arm and winced at the pain—not a dream. Shiyu … so the little shiba inu from his morning appointment lived next door to him? That seemed a little too good to be true. Now that he thought about it … what time was it? Glancing around gave an answer almost instantly, eyes landing upon his phone placed neatly next to his bedside. Same day, just much, much later. Mingi would surely kill him for not checking in.

Just as Hongjoong set his phone down, Hwa came walking back in with a doctor and nurse in tow.

Several questions and personal prodding later, he learned he had been diagnosed with an extreme case of stomach flu and exhaustion. Apparently running up four flights of stairs without a break while you were heaving up your guts wasn’t the smartest thing.  _ Who knew? _ He was ordered a day of bed rest and to drink plenty of fluids … and no more days old pizza. 

After getting a bit of a lecture, the doctor and nurse filed back out, promising to return with his release forms. Hongjoong folded his hands in his lap and sighed.

“Figures it’s the pizza that does me in.”

“Well, they didn’t say no more pizza. Just no four day old pizza.” Hwa’s voice was deep but soothing, catching Hongjoong’s attention once more. His new neighbor had taken over a nearby chair. He spoke carefully, as if he were choosing every word as he went. Hongjoong had to admit, his curiosity had been captured.

He scratched the back of his neck, humming low in his throat. “That’s true. And uh … thanks for not just leaving me on the floor.”

“Oh! Of course. I honestly thought you hit your head or something because of my boxes. I heard you trip over them this morning too; sorry about that.”

“No, no, that’s totally my fault,” he laughed. “I was late for work, and my ability to watch where I’m going is already awful so.” He shrugged.

Hwa clapped his palms together. The resulting noise wasn’t that loud but it still startled him. “You’re the groomer who took care of Shiyu! I can’t believe I just made that connection.”

“Ah … yeah. My name is Kim Hongjoong,” he replied, nodding his agreement. “I thought it was Shiyu. You have a smart dog.”

“She’s the smartest creature I know, and that’s a lot considering I’m friends with Yeo—um, someone from my work.” Hwa looked away, masking what he’d said by clearing his throat. “She took a strong liking to you it seems. It’s nice to meet you, Hongjoong. Like … formally.”

“Yeah, you too.” Hongjoong smiled softly, and the pair fell into a comfortable silence. It felt like they were old friends, like they’d known each other for countless years. His name was familiar, his voice too, but Hongjoong couldn’t recall anyone named Hwa from his school days. Moving hadn’t left him much time to befriend anyone but Hongjoong never forgot a face; it wasn’t in his nature. Maybe …  _ no, _ that couldn’t be possible.

He pulled the blanket off his feet and swung his legs over the side, letting them dangle above the floor. A rush of cool air ran up his pants and he shivered. Hongjoong had many questions carouseling through his brain at that moment. But, he settled on the one glaring so intensely down at him.

“You said … you paid for the whole bill?” He questioned, breaking the silence.

Hwa perked up at the sound of his voice. “I did, since I brought you here without consent.”

“And you’re living in a place _ like that? _ ” Hongjoong gestured vaguely, clearly surprised. His apartment wasn’t nice in the slightest, and he had never sugarcoated that fact. Sure, it was home, but if Hwa could afford to pay a whole damn hospital bill then surely he could afford something much, much nicer.

The other man just chuckled. Hongjoong couldn’t see his mouth, but he could see the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. He wondered, too, why Hwa wore a mask, but it felt he would be overstepping some imaginary line upon asking. 

“Home is what you make it, not what it looks like,” Hwa finally answered.

Hongjoong’s chance for a reply was snatched away by the nurse re-entering the room. After several minutes of discussing rest and proper diet, he was given the clear to go. He gathered up his various belongings, mostly wallet, phone, and keys, and followed the nurse from the room. Hwa trailed after him, gaze flicking all across the expansive hallways. His eyes were brown, confirming Hongjoong’s suspicion of contacts. The blue had been gorgeous, but the brown was even prettier. He was also a few inches taller but that didn’t surprise him; it didn’t take much to be taller than Hongjoong, after all. 

Stepping outside the front entrance, Hongjoong took a deep breath of fresh air. He hated hospitals. They were full of sadness and sterile smells, eerie quiet stretching along every floor—he was glad to be done with it.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he searched around for the rideshare app he had and tapped the icon. Hwa glanced over his shoulder as he input his address. 

“Oh! There’s no need to do that, I can drive us back.”

Hongjoong looked at him in surprise. “Uh … are you sure? I’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”

The dark-haired man waved a hand, revealing a set of keys in the other. “Don’t worry about it; we’re going to the same place anyway. Follow me!” His energy sort of mirrored Mingi, and perhaps that was the reason Hongjoong felt so inclined to trust him.

Hongjoong realized he should’ve probably checked his messages. Glancing back down at his phone, the screen displayed a whopping twenty texts and three missed calls. All of them were from Mingi, filled with enough concern to drip from his screen. “I have to make a phone call, but I’ll stick close.”

“Okay!” Hwa called, leading him further down the expanse of the parking lot.

Hongjoong dialed Mingi’s number, placing his phone against his ear. Big mistake, because as soon as his friend answered, he immediately began screeching. “Kim  _ fucking _ Hongjoong! Why weren’t you answering me! Where are you! What the hell is going on!” Mingi’s words slurred together, so much so that Hongjoong barely understood him; he yanked his phone away from his ear to combat the loudness.

“Alright, alright, stop yelling! I’m fine, I’m at the hospital.” 

That only earned him more panicked garble, Hongjoong not being able to pick out individual words this time. He didn’t answer at first, giving Mingi time to cycle through his sea of questions and concerned rambling. Then Mingi repeated it, still fast but with enough slowness that Hongjoong could understand the scolding he was receiving. “Why didn’t you call me! I knew I should’ve walked you home. Did you pass out on the street? Hongjoong!”

“You’re talking way too fast, Mingi.” They reached Hwa’s car, Hongjoong coming to a halt as his neighbor unlocked it. He popped the passenger door open and squeezed himself inside. “I did pass out, which is why I didn’t call you. My new neighbor drove me here.”

“I’m your emergency contact and they didn’t call me?” Mingi sighed, taking a few breaths to calm himself down. Hongjoong took that time to buckle his seatbelt, giving Hwa a thumbs up.

“You’re my contact for work, Mingi, not for life emergencies.”

Mingi whined softly. “Then what’s the point? Anyways … was it the people that just moved in? Good thing they’re not assholes at least.”

Hwa laughed next to him, the sound loud enough to carry through his phone. “I’m a good neighbor, I promise.”

Hongjoong sighed, holding his phone far away from his ear. “Three … two … one …”

Mingi’s voice erupted over the line again. “You’re with them right now? Hongjoong!”

His neighbor laughed once again, turning the car on. He glanced over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking lot.

“You know the shiba I washed this morning? The white one?”

“Yes?” Mingi replied with uncertainty.

“Well, her owner is my new neighbor.”

“Oh wow, you’re really living the your name life,” Mingi said, tone teasing.

“Oh hush. Anyways, we’re on the way back now. I’ve been ordered to rest and not work tomorrow.” He switched his phone to his other ear.

“Boss said you can’t come in anyway, so don’t worry about it. Take a long nap now that you have some peace.” Mingi hummed quietly. “Call me tomorrow when you wake up and I’ll bring you that soup, yeah?”

“I got it, I got it. Later, Mingi.” Hongjoong pressed ‘end call’ and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Hwa leaned towards him a bit, not taking his eyes off the road. “Were your old neighbors bad? What’s the story there?”

“Mm.” Hongjoong reached out, messing with the volume controls on the radio; Hwa didn’t stop him. “They would fight every single night. Like, shouting match, throw things fight. Literally the bane of my existence. I was so happy when they moved out.” Finding the station he was wanting, he turned it up just enough to fill the silence but not overpower their conversation. A song from Oneus was playing and he smiled, thinking of Mingi.

“Ah, makes sense. Well, I’ll be much better! I hope … Shiyu too.”

“Barking isn’t gonna bother me. That’s my everyday regardless of whether I’m home or not,” he laughed, leaning back in the seat. His eyes followed the city lights as they drove. “Where’d you move from, Hwa, if you don’t mind me asking. New to the area?”

Hwa hummed quietly. “Not new to the area, but I did move from overseas.”

“That’s a pretty ambitious move.” He rolled his head back, fixing Hwa with a curious stare. “Why’d you pick here?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty far from home. I’m gonna be staying at your complex for a few months for work things, I think,” he responded.

“I see, I see. What do you do for a living? I would tell you mine but, well,” Hongjoong said, gesturing at the windshield.

Hwa side-eyed him, Hongjoong catching his gaze for barely a second, before his attention focused wholeheartedly on the road. “Hmm … nothing too interesting.”

Well that wasn’t quite the answer he was wanting. Still, Hwa seemed reluctant to share, and Hongjoong could respect that. He parted his lips, hoping to ask if Hwa would be interested in dinner as repayment, but decided against it—for the moment anyway. They fell into a comfortable silence once again, Hongjoong allowing the radio to fill the empty space between their bodies. Outside, the sky was dark with night, and heavy clouds in the distance concealed the moon from view. City lights passed in a blur. The night of Seoul was alive and thriving around them.

The radio began to play Mars’ new single, catching his attention. Hongjoong leaned forward and turned it up a bit, smiling. Music just didn’t sound as nice upon his bike. In a car, however, the bass was contained and the sound didn’t travel beyond. Cars altered the music experience in a positive way. He sang along and when it got to the rap, kept perfect pace with that too; it was the push he needed to feel revitalized after his ordeal.

Once the song was over, he slumped back into the seat to catch his breath. Hwa, slowing the car for a stoplight, looked over at him. “Wow, you did that pretty well. Are you a fan?”

“Of Mars? Yeah. He’s my favorite idol at the moment.”

“Ah, cool.” Hwa looked back to the road, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly; Hongjoong pretended he didn’t notice. “He’d probably be a fan of you too.”

Before Hongjoong could question what that meant, they pulled into the parking garage for their complex. It was quiet as they found Hwa’s designated spot, the man swinging in with ease. They both climbed out of the car with a stretch, glad to extend their legs again. Hongjoong strolled over to his bike and gave it a gentle pat. He hadn’t ridden it in about a week and felt bad about neglecting it. Maybe tomorrow if he felt better.

Behind him, Hwa whistled, taking in the sight of his sleek black bike. “I see you’re a man of style.”

“Haha, thanks. This is my baby.”

“It’s nice. You seemed like the bike type, glad I was right.”

Hongjoong regarded him with a curious stare, dropping his hand. “Bike type, eh?”

“Yeah, bike type! You just have this dark and mysterious vibe about you.” Hwa did a weird motion with his fingers, making a low oooo noise as he did so.

He tried to hold back his laugh but failed, opting for hiding his mouth behind his hand. Hwa wasn’t far off the mark but Hongjoong wasn’t going to tell him that. “I think you’re the first person to ever say something like that.”

“Oh really?” They walked around the edge of the building, Hwa inputting his code to get inside. 

“Yeah.” Hongjoong worried at his lip as they went, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Say … would you be opposed to dinner sometime? A-as a way to say thank you for, you know, the hospital thing.” His ears burned, and Hongjoong was grateful he hadn’t acquired his mother’s rosy cheeks whenever she grew embarrassed.

“Hmm, that might be a little difficult because of my schedule but …” Hwa paused, holding the door open for him. “... I can see if I can make it work.”

So not a no, but not a yes either. Hongjoong’s curiosity over what Hwa did for a living only grew.

They wandered into the lobby, Hongjoong grimacing as he realized the elevator was still broken. At this rate, it felt like they would be doomed to navigate the stairs forever. Still, Hwa kept them in good spirits by humming the tune of Mars’ song from the car. He even did a bit of dancing, keeping a faint smile on Hongjoong’s face. 

Once the duo reached Hwa’s apartment, they paused so he could fiddle with the lock. He smiled at the realization that all of the boxes had finally been taken care of. Hongjoong didn’t really need to wait and, truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he didn’t just continue on towards his own door. Something told him to stay there; he listened to it.

Hwa began rapping a verse from one of Mars’ older songs under his breath, an excited bark coming from behind the door.

“You’re a fan of Mars too?”

Hwa didn’t answer at first, finally managing to unlock his apartment. The door swung open, a tiny blur of white fur tearing across the living room. Shiyu happily tapped her little feet against her owner’s thigh, the man leaning down to pet her.

“I would say so … considering that’s me.”

Hongjoong, who had bent down to pet Shiyu as well, completely froze. 

_ Considering that’s me. _

His gaze immediately turned to Hwa’s hair, staring hard. And, as the morning tide crashed upon the shore, it rushed over him. The reason his voice sounded so familiar was not because they had gone to school together.

The reason his voice sounded so familiar was it because it belonged to Mars, aka  _ Park Seonghwa, _ the very idol Hongjoong admired above anyone else. 

Park Seonghwa, who had found him covered in spit and sweat, passed out on his apartment floor. Park Seonghwa, who had definitely seen all of the albums and merchandise scattered around his desk earlier. Park Seonghwa, who, for some weird and interesting twist of fate, now lived right next door to him.

(How his mind had not connected  _ Hwa _ to  _ Park Seonghwa _ beforehand made him feel like a fool. Even more so when you factored in how popular his dog was on the internet. Kim Hongjoong really was an oblivious mess.)

_ Huh, _ funny how the world worked.

“You’re joking. Please say you’re joking or I might pass out again.”

Hwa motioned for him to sit down, a command that Hongjoong obeyed a little too easily. “Nope, not kidding.” He reached up, unhooking his mask from one ear. It was carefully removed, Hwa taking no care in tossing it onto the floor inside his apartment. Hongjoong jerked back out of shock. No, Hwa was not lying. Hwa was Seonghwa, who was staring at him with bright brown eyes and an amused smile.

His heart stopped.

Hongjoong raised a hand, pointing a shaky finger directly at him. He was pretty sure he mimicked a fish out of water in that moment, mouth opening and closing. “I must still be in the hospital. There’s no way. This only happens in my dreams.  _ What the fuck. _ ”

Seonghwa laughed, sinking to the floor so he could hug Shiyu to his chest. “You have dreams about me? Would love to hear about those.” Shiyu barked in response. “I am one hundred percent real. Now that you know that, you have to promise me something.”

“Anything.” The word spilled forth without hesitation.

“You can’t tell anyone. I’m taking a very big risk even telling you but … you covered my song so nicely in the car. You have talent.”

Yeah, he was dead. He had to be. Park Seonghwa teasing him was a problem in itself, but Park Seonghwa complementing his voice in an apartment complex full of spider webs, shitty roofing, and awful walls sounded so incredibly absurd  _ he _ barely believed it. And he was the one  _ living in the moment! _

“Okay, assuming I accept this as reality, what brings you to a place like—” he gestured around them, “— _ this? _ ”

Shiyu wiggled free from Seonghwa’s arms, coming back with her leash in tow. The smart dog made it clear she needed to go outside. Seonghwa clipped it to her collar and pushed himself to his feet, face a mix of emotions while he struggled to come up with an answer. Hongjoong just stared openly up at him.

“I’m kind of laying low for a few months,” Seonghwa finally admitted. “I can’t tell you why, I just have to trust that you’ll keep it a secret—no matter what you read on the internet. You will, right? I’ll sign your albums and buy you dinners and everything.” Seonghwa’s voice was so painstakingly sincere in that moment.

_ Even without you offering those things, I still wouldn’t tell anyone. _ “Um … consider it even for the hospital thing then?” He finally replied. “You can trust me. I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”

Seonghwa sagged in relief. “It’s a deal. Thank you, Hongjoong.”

“I just … need to ask. Why tell me, when I clearly had no idea?” Hongjoong said; he had to know.

The idol hesitated, even with Shiyu pawing at his ankle. “... Something in me just said you deserved to know.” He stepped through the door, allowing it to swing shut behind him. “I have to take Shiyu out now. You’ll get plenty of rest tomorrow, yes?”

“Um, yeah! I promise,” he responded, using the wall to stand upright. Hongjoong bit his tongue as he realized how close they were.

“Good. Then … I’ll see you around?” Seonghwa stepped away, Shiyu pulling him down the hall.

“Yeah, see you around,” he called out after him.

Suddenly, the most exciting experience of his night was meeting, as Mingi would put it, Park  _ fucking _ Seonghwa. Hongjoong watched him walk away, mind still struggling to accept what had just happened as reality. He would worry about it tomorrow. For now, he needed a hot shower and a long, well-earned nap.

—————— xxx —————

_ “They could’ve killed you, Hongjoong.” _

_ He didn’t bother looking at his father, instead keeping his eyes trained on the buildings passing in a blur outside.  _

_ “Legally, they can,” he spat back. “That contract is a death sentence, and I didn’t agree to gamble with my life.” _

_ “Don’t be difficult!” His father said, raising his voice.  _

_ He had never been afraid of the man despite his intimidating aura and harsh words, but he still refrained from responding. Hongjoong slumped further in his seat, simmering with anger.  _

_ “You need to grow a backbone. Things like this happen in our industry, and if you wish to be successful in the future, you need to accept that.” _

_ “I don’t  want to run your fucking company,” he said, finally whipping his head around to glare at the man seated opposite him. “I just want to make music.” _

_ His father stared at him, calm expression only betrayed by the fire behind his eyes. “Life isn’t fair, Hongjoong. You were born to run this company, just as I was. Lose your frivolous dreams.” The man snatched up a bottle of alcohol from the console before them, their driver purposefully keeping his gaze away from them. “You can’t change fate.” _

_ “You’ll see,” Hongjoong replied, voice scarily calm; his father met him with the same intense resolve. “I’ll prove you wrong a million times over.” _

—————— xxx —————

By the time Hongjoong woke up the next day, his mind had erased what happened in a sleepy haze. He woke up, tossed out the culprit for his food poisoning, and sank into his chair at his desk. It was only when his eyes fell upon one of Seonghwa’s albums, displayed proudly above his computer monitor, that everything came rushing back. Hongjoong sank back into his chair, just staring at the album in silence as his brain struggled to process everything. Further proof came in the form of his hospital bracelet lying atop his laptop. Okay, so everything that had occurred mere hours before had  _ actually _ happened.

“Oh my god, my neighbor is Park Seonghwa.” Speaking it into existing made him accept reality. And, surprisingly, he was taking it well … somehow.

His voice cut through the silence of his apartment, the shadows hissing at him. Hongjoong forced himself to stand. He threw the door to his balcony open and stepped outside. Wind pulled at his clothes gently and he drank in the refreshing cool air with a sigh of relief. Hongjoong was so distracted by how good the morning air felt that his phone suddenly ringing made him visibly jump. 

The screen read ‘Mingi,’ and he cursed the man’s weird way of knowing when Hongjoong was awake. He pressed it to his ear and muttered a soft, “Morning.”

“Morning, sleepyhead! You’re probably wondering ‘how the heck did the great Mingi know I was awake?’ My seventh sense of course!” Mingi laughed, and Hongjoong just shook his head. “Also I can see you on your balcony.”

“There’s only five senses you know, so it’d be your sixth.” Hongjoong looked down, eyes searching the ground. They eventually settled on Mingi, who was excitedly waving a hand from far, far below. “And I thought you were gonna wait until I called you.”

“Eh, sixth, seventh? Who cares.” He watched Mingi close the door to his car. “I woke up super early to get you the best quality pork  _ and _ fresh veggies! I’m gonna make you some great soup.”

“What if I haven’t done dishes in like a week?” Hongjoong teased.

Mingi began walking towards the main entrance, Hongjoong following him with his eyes. “Then I’ll wash your dishes, make my amazing dish, and eat it myself.”

“You?  _ Doing dishes? _ Is the world ending?”

“I know how to do dishes! I’m a cooking connoisseur!” The sound of Mingi opening the main door crackled through his phone speaker.

“Suuure. Just knock when you get up here.” A loud ‘ _ okay! _ ’ came from Mingi’s end, and he tapped the end call button.

Hongjoong pushed off the railing and went back inside, fishing around for a shirt. He quickly washed out his sink and shoved some of his dirty clothes into a basket to at least pretend he was a functioning human. Just as he finished tossing the final sock into his basket, a knock sounded at his door.

Hongjoong popped it open, offering a greeting. “Hey Mingi.” only it wasn’t Mingi; it was Seonghwa.

He felt like a deer in headlights, being face to face with someone he’d only admired from afar so suddenly. His hair was damp from a shower, cheeks glowing from a morning wash. “Mingi, eh? Are you expecting someone?”

It took longer than he was willing to admit for his brain to send words to his mouth. Hongjoong’s attention was completely captivated by how soft Seonghwa looked, a side of him he’d only ever been lucky enough to see in pictures. “U-um, yeah. My friend is on his way up right now.” He poked his head into the hallway, looking down towards the stairwell; they still had a bit of time to spare. “He knows your face too … and he’s kinda loud,” he said quietly.

Seonghwa glanced down the hallway, understanding what Hongjoong was getting at. “Okay, okay, I get you!” He took a step back towards his own door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Are you at least feeling a little better?”

Hongjoong nodded. “I am. Thank you again for the help.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. I couldn’t just leave you unconscious on the ground.” The distant sound of the stairwell door opening echoed down the hallway. Seonghwa waved and slipped back to his door. “I’ll come back later. Don’t let it gnaw at you too much, Hongjoong. I didn’t mind helping you, I promise.”

Before he could respond, which seemed to be a common theme, the idol vanished back into his apartment. Just in time too, Hongjoong spotting Mingi round the corner down the way. The normally enthusiastic man looked exhausted, bag of ingredients swinging at his side. “Why didn’t you tell me the elevators were broken!” He yelled down the way.

“Oops!” Hongjoong called back. “I must’ve forgot.”

Mingi approached him, lips drawn into a pout. “You forgot on purpose. You only get two pieces of pork.”

He stepped to the side, allowing Mingi to enter. Hongjoong didn’t argue, because he knew Mingi would give him extra whether he asked for it or not. The door swung shut behind him and he padded after his friend. Mingi wasted no time in making a mess out of his kitchen, the sounds of pots and pans banging together filling his apartment as the man sought out the utensils he needed. It was actually because of this that Hongjoong had pans in the first place. He rarely cooked, but Mingi insisted on making something every single time he visited. So of course the logical thing was to buy cookware.

Mingi was the type of person that, at a glance, one would assume he couldn’t cook to save his life. In truth, Mingi had a talent for cooking that no one else seemed able to match. Something about the way he made things caused them to taste so much better. He could take a concept like basic spaghetti and add a personal touch that elevated the dish to new levels. Hongjoong teased him about it but Mingi’s home cooked meals were the only ones he’d even eat at this point.

Hongjoong leaned against the refrigerator, the window above his desk allowing light to stream across the floor. Mingi was busy pulling ingredients from the bag he’d brought, laying them out across his counter. From where he was standing, he could make out a packet of noodles and various vegetables. Mingi tossed some of the veggies into his sink, looking up at him as he scrubbed. A ramyun kind of day, hmm? He was about it.

“So, you gonna tell me how you ended up at the hospital?”

Hongjoong, trying to be nonchalant, shrugged. “If you’re looking for an exciting story, I’m afraid it’s nothing gossip worthy. I passed out here in the kitchen and Shiyu brought Se— er, Mr. Park over. Not sure what happened after that though.” He rubbed beneath his eye. “I woke up in a hospital bed … and he paid for the whole bill.”

Mingi’s jaw dropped, eyes wide as he stared at him. “ _ Paid for the whole bill? _ And he’s living in a place like  _ this? _ I mean, no offense, but—”

“That’s what I said!” He exclaimed, clearly exasperated. 

“Wow, this really is your young adult novel moment!” Hongjoong looked between the carrot Mingi was waving in his direction and his face, brows raising. “I would say that’s something pretty cool to share.”

“Having your neighbor find you covered in drool and vomit isn’t the greatest first impression. New and gorgeous neighbor, I might add.” 

“If you wanna get technical, it was his dog who found you first,” Mingi said, attention going back to his vegetable cleaning. “Gorgeous though? Like, Seonghwa level gorgeous?”

_ Oh Mingi, if only you knew. _

Hongjoong smiled to himself, turning away from his unknowing friend. “You’re not far off actually.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” Hongjoong wandered over to his bed, ignoring the hard sideways glance he got from Mingi, and plopped down at his desk. He popped open his laptop and booted it up, scrolling through his phone while it went through the difficult process of turning on. They fell into rehearsed silence, both of them lost in their respective worlds. 

In due time, his apartment filled with the smell of spices. Mingi eventually cleared his throat to get his attention. Hongjoong lowered his hands, spinning around in his chair. He had a devious look on his face and a sense of danger washed over him.

“Say, you wanna invite your neighbor over for some ramyun? I think a bit of a thanks is in order!”

Hongjoong chuckled under his breath, just shaking his head. “How long did it take you to come up with that?”

Mingi pouted, waving his tongs in defiance. “You’re no fun!”

“I may be no fun, but at least I’ve never shoved a Skittle up my nose,” he fired back.

It didn’t have the desired effect. Instead, Mingi just burst into laughter. “Leave my nose Skittle out of this. Come get some noodles too; they’re done.”

Mingi withdrew to the stove, leaving Hongjoong to stare after him. The corners of his mouth twitched, mind rolling through various thoughts, before he rose to his feet. As expected, Mingi gave him a generous amount of pork and extra noodles, and the two sat at his tiny table and ate together. They laughed and they cried, and they absolutely lost their minds when Mingi dropped his chopsticks on the floor at one point. The friendship they had was a good one, and Hongjoong was grateful to have someone like Song Mingi in his life.

By the time they finished eating and cleaning up the kitchen mess, it was nearly two in the afternoon. Mingi said his goodbyes and left, locking Hongjoong in silence.

The logical course of action would be to take a nap. Food tasted best followed up with a bit of sleep, and after yesterday he had totally earned it. But with his whole stomach flu fiasco, he had lost a whole evening to work on his projects. He had a lot of ground to make up and couldn’t justify napping when he could be productive instead.

Taking a seat at his desk once more, his attention affixed to the album displayed proudly above his desk. The cover held a mix of blue and green, a silhouette of Seonghwa along the left side; he was holding an orb with sparks flying from its surface. It was Seonghwa’s debut album and happened to be one of Hongjoong’s most prized possessions. They were extremely hard to find now that the original printing company had gone out of business. He reached out, pressing a fingertip against the orb. A strange sense of peace fell over his body, mind wandering once more.

It was only here that he allowed himself to contemplate the entire picture. Seonghwa staying in an old apartment building with the intention of laying low … What was he hiding from? Bad fans? What kind of danger would require him to pretend to be a, dare Hongjoong say, regular person? He dropped his fingers upon his keyboard and got to work doing some snooping into the situation. Well, it couldn’t really be labeled as snooping, considering it was all public information.

Unfortunately for him, the internet withheld its secrets that day. The only piece of information he came across in his search was from a shady forum, mentioning how Seonghwa was no longer at his dorm. A sense of dread washed over him and, had he read this yesterday in passing, he would be understandably concerned. Whatever air of mystery Sunrise was hoping to create had worked; Seonghwa had effectively disappeared from the public eye.

Soft knocking at his door startled him from his thoughts, leaving him scandalized despite being in the safety of his own apartment. Hongjoong slammed his laptop shut a bit too harshly and took a deep breath. He had a pretty good feeling on who it was. Part of him debated on pretending he wasn’t home because, should his hunch be proven true, he didn’t know if he could handle being within Seonghwa’s personal space again so soon. What a problem he never expected to have.

Taking a moment to smooth the wildness of his hair, Hongjoong eased the door open and came face to face with exactly who he had been expecting. Barefaced Seonghwa was powerful up close and Hongjoong felt a little weak in the knees. He was … taking all of this surprisingly well, considering his status as a hardcore fan. Then again, he had been in the presence of some of the most powerful businessmen around the globe before. Idols were different but perhaps his subconscious remembered the guide of how not to panic. Even if he really, really wanted to.

“I heard him leave,” Seonghwa began, mouth hanging open. “... That sounds really weird. The walls are thin; I promise I wasn’t trying to listen in,” he laughed softly, that noise alone to erase whatever response Hongjoong hoped to form. “May I come in?”

Hongjoong’s brain checked out. His lips parted, unable to produce any words. Silence spanned between them, Seonghwa just staring at him expectantly. Finally, Hongjoong cleaned his throat and toed his door open the rest of the way open. “Uh, of course. Don’t worry about the walls; I’m used to that.”

“Ah, great! I figured it was easier than just standing in the hallway.” Seonghwa slipped past Hongjoong, carrying himself with a charismatic grace. The man took his time in admiring every inch of the tiny apartment he had entered.

Hongjoong allowed the door to swing shut, shoving his hands into his pockets to ground himself. Outwardly, Hongjoong was fine. Inwardly, he was freaking the hell out.

“Your apartment feels so cozy and lived in,” Seonghwa murmured.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Hongjoong replied, just observing him with thinly veiled awe.

It didn’t take Seonghwa long to spot the albums Hongjoong had proudly displayed upon his desk. All he could do was watch as the idol padded over, a hand hovering over his debut album. He took care in not touching it despite having every right to.

“Oh wow, I can’t believe you have a copy of this. The printing company went out of business right after this made … they’re virtually impossible to find now.” Seonghwa affixed him with excited eyes and Hongjoong actually felt his heart skip a beat. It was a fact he had known for awhile but something about the way Seonghwa said it presented it as something new. “Sunrise didn’t think they were worthy enough for a reprint.” 

Hongjoong didn’t miss the flicker of sadness on his features.

“I wouldn’t be able to call myself one of your harcore fans if I didn’t,” he said, his brain going from no words to suddenly too many. His ears burned. “For what it’s worth, the fans that own them cherish them; I’m certain of that.” Hongjoong gestured to the album. “You can pick it up if you want to; it’s your album.”

Seonghwa’s expression softened and he carefully lifted the album, handling the precious piece of history with more care than even Hongjoong. He marveled at the cover with a tiny smile and Hongjoong couldn’t help but walk closer to see his face up close. Many fans would kill for the chance to have Park Seonghwa in their living room.

Delicate fingers flipped through the pages. He paused as he came across a particular spread, attention turning to Hongjoong suddenly. “This,” he said, tilting the album so Hongjoong could see, “is my personal favorite picture. It was the last day of filming, and they snapped it when I was trying to relax. Ended up being the best one.” His eyes traveled to the chosen picture. It was Seonghwa on the beach, summer sun bleeding into the water beyond him. He was dressed in a flowy white shirt, buttons down just enough to reveal a flash of chest, one arm slung over his lap while the other sat planted in the sand to hold himself upright. The picture was absolutely gorgeous.

“The scenery suits you,” Hongjoong replied quietly. “It matches your personality.”

Seonghwa smiled. “Thank you. What’s your favorite from this one, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ah!” Hongjoong allowed the idol to set it within his hands, searching through the pages. Seonghwa hovered a little closer, looking over his shoulder; his heart quickened at the proximity. “From your debut, this is mine.” The picture was of Seonghwa seated in a chair in the center of a field, the man holding an umbrella over his head. Everything around him was sunny and cheerful, but rain fell from beneath the object meant to shield. It had a deep meaning to do with the title track and Hongjoong still felt it captured the mood of the album perfectly; he made sure to convey this to Seonghwa as well.

“A good choice! This one is my second favorite, actually. I was so happy they just photoshopped the rain in. It was so humid that day.” Seonghwa extended a hand, poking a fingertip against the paper. He trailed down to a weird looking object in the lower right. “This somehow missed every design team, but this is my Starbucks drink from earlier in the shoot. I saw a lot of debate over it when the album finally released.”

Hongjoong smirked. He remembered those days. “That feels like so long ago. Now you’re here in my apartment for some reason and I’m still convinced this is a dream.”

“I told you, it’s not a dream! I’m really here,” Seonghwa laughed, stepping away so as not to crowd him.

“But I still don’t know  _ why _ you’re here,” he said, carefully putting the album back into its designated space.

“I told you yesterday.” Seonghwa glanced around the desk again, eyes widening as he located whatever he was looking for. 

“Not the apartment complex, Seonghwa. My  _ actual apartment. _ ”

“Mm, well, I suppose I do have a reason.” His voice was soft, and he plucked a black marker from Hongjoong’s mismatched bin of writing supplies. “Can I sign this for you first, then explain?”

Hongjoong eyed him warily, unsure of where the conversation was going. “I would be honored but … you’re being kind of mysterious.”

Seonghwa didn’t answer. Given the okay, he signed the previously handled debut album; he even accentuated it with a little heart. It was returned to its place for the second time that day, now worth about ten times the original value. Not that Hongjoong would ever sell such a thing. Once his task was complete, the idol’s attention focused on him completely. The sudden intensity made Hongjoong’s back snap ramrod straight.

“I spotted this when the paramedics came yesterday,” he said, placing a hand on the desk. His fingertips ghosted the edge of Hongjoong’s soundboard. “Between you covering my song and this, I have to ask. Are you underground?”

His gaze flicked between several places in that moment, traveling from the soundboard to Seonghwa’s fingers and up to his face again. He swallowed, gripping the back of his chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “Kinda? I’m mostly online now.”

The other man’s face lit up. “Then you’re a producer, yeah? Judging from this.”

Hongjoong still wasn’t sure what Seonghwa was getting at. The questions were leading to an obvious answer and, if compared, would lead to a comical x on a treasure map. Or maybe his mind was just denying what was about to happen because, again, Hongjoong was still a little convinced this was all a fever dream. Things like this didn’t happen to normal people. Idols didn’t just move in next door. Idols didn’t just interact with people like him. But Seonghwa wasn’t just any idol either.

“... My main hobby, yes. What are you getting at?”

“Well, since I’m being treated like a princess trapped in a faraway land and have no schedules, how would you like to work with me?” Seonghwa’s hand fell palm-up towards his computer.

Hongjoong’s immediate response wasn’t excitement, however, nor did it carry joy. In fact, his heart felt heavy. Why him? Why a random person he literally just met yesterday? In theory, he should be jumping for joy right now, but instead he only found himself seeking answers. Hongjoong’s upbringing had taught him never to celebrate too soon.

“Listen, I’m very flattered, but I’m also very confused …”

The idol hummed softly, dropping his arms. His eyes traveled to the door leading to his balcony. “Truthfully,” Seonghwa began, “I kinda already know who you are.” Catching Hongjoong’s surprised expression, Seonghwa stumbled over his words. “N-not because he did background checks or anything! The moment I learned your name at the hospital, I was curious. It sounded familiar so I did a search and … a bunch of your tracks popped up.” Taking a soft breath, he linked his hands together against his stomach, thumbs clashing. “You have talent. Like … a lot of it.”

Okay. Everything made a bit more sense now. His mind still working to compile everything into an understandable format, he let go of the chair and ran a hand through his hair.

“... And I kinda sent them to Youngjo and he demanded I convince you to audition.”

Hongjoong’s head whipped to Seonghwa. “You did  _ what? _ ”

Seonghwa smiled sheepishly. “Sent them to Youngjo so he could give them a listen.”

“You sent my music to  _ the _ Kim Youngjo, member of Oneus and the most talented producer at Sunrise Entertainment, and he demanded I  _ audition? _ ”

“That’s exactly what I did, yes,” he answered through a laugh. “He loved your music!”

Hongjoong backed away from Seonghwa. He allowed himself to sink down upon his bed, staring at the wall with intensity to rival the sun. If someone had told him two days ago that he’d effectively be scouted by the very entertainment company he’d been eyeing up for months, he would’ve laughed in their face. Despite his need for freedom when it came to music, the idea of becoming official had been tossed around between Mingi and himself on multiple occasions the last few months. They had even discussed auditioning together too. But, never in his wildest dreams did he think it could actually happen. Things like this just didn’t happen, especially not to people like Kim Hongjoong. 

Whatever hand of fate that had shuffled his cards must’ve slid him into the wrong deck by accident.

“I don’t know what’s more to take in. The fact you want me to produce a song for you or the fact Kim Youngjo knows I exist.”

“Well I, for one, am hoping it’s me,” Seonghwa said, tone amused. “How about you think on it and then let me know? The offer isn’t gonna be revoked.”

Working with Seonghwa, with a chance at being signed by Sunrise … All brought about because he’d passed out from bad pizza. What a wild way to begin a career, though he knew other people certainly had stories on par. 

Breathing room for such an important decision was appreciated, but Hongjoong knew the longer he was left to ponder over it, the more likely he would be to shy away. It wasn’t like he could consult Mingi for advice in this situation either. 

Sunrise Entertainment held auditions year round, rain or shine, but Hongjoong had grown accustomed to putting it off for later. It was a vicious cycle of maybe next week, a week that turned into next month, and eventually turned into a year before ever knowing of Mingi’s own dreams.

Though his thoughts lasted barely a minute, it felt like hours; Hongjoong never had a good perception of time after all.

Looking over at the idol, who had gone back to admiring his soundboard reverently, Hongjoong found his voice. “I’ll do it,” he said, Seonghwa’s pretty brown eyes meeting his own. “I’ll produce some tracks for you.”

Thus, the deck of cards fate dealt for both of them shuffled into one.

—————— xxx —————

His week became a mess of activity. Between his job and working with Seonghwa, time to laze around and be unproductive on purpose grew scarce. Not that it was a bad thing of course. Hongjoong enjoyed having things to do but he missed the ability to take a nap whenever his body demanded one. Still, he really had no room to complain; he was creating music for Park Seonghwa—and he got to befriend his cute little shiba inu.  _ A package deal. _

For much of the first week, Hongjoong only saw him a handful of times. He was busy unpacking his apartment and running around to gather what he didn’t have. Hongjoong had to admit, he was curious over just what Seonghwa had dragged along with him, given the amount of boxes he’d moved in with. But, it wasn’t really any of his business, so he didn’t ask.

He had no time limit for when his work needed to be completed, but that didn’t offer a chance to relax. Within that short week, he had already produced more sample tracks than they would ever need … and he hated all of them. They were good, sure, but they weren’t worthy of being used by Seonghwa. Hongjoong could sit there for hours, hunched over his soundboard, fingers stained with ink and aching from use, but nothing good could come from his stress. It wasn’t until he threw up later in the week that he realized he needed to take a step back. The realization that he was falling into an unhealthy state tore him from his reverie. He had promised Mingi no more hospital visits too. He reminded himself of the time limit, and that seemed to snap him from the strange stupor that overtook him that first week.

Good realizations, but they didn’t magically produce a song for him.

The following Monday earned him an early morning visit from Seonghwa. With no schedules outside of practice for Seonghwa to attend, he was free to do whatever he wanted, and what he wanted happened to be spending time around Hongjoong while he worked. Hongjoong grew used to having the idol in his apartment quickly, Seonghwa milling about while he tapped away at his keyboard, occupying his bed or rolling around with Shiyu on his floor. Sometimes he made a mess of his kitchen (Seonghwa was not a good cook, Hongjoong discovered) and sometimes he simply stared out into the city from the balcony. One time he even fell asleep on Hongjoong’s bed, Shiyu curled into his arms, the both of them snoring away. 

Having the constant presence of his idol actually worked in a positive way, helping to further steer him from overworking. And, really, Hongjoong loved stealing glances at Seonghwa whenever he got the chance, but could you really blame him? He was effortlessly pretty with a soft smile that had permanently taken residence upon his features. Time had only passed in the span of a week but for Hongjoong, it felt like a lifetime.

Hongjoong didn’t want to admit it, but arriving home from work that day to an empty apartment was … disappointing. He silently kicked himself over having such a selfish thought and flicked the light on, eyes raking over the empty room. Really, it wasn’t empty, full of cobwebs and scattered papers, but the absence of Seonghwa was so jarring. In such a short timeframe, he had already grown used to the bright presence constantly in his living room. 

He tossed his work uniform into a random corner and threw on a simple hoodie, making his way over to his desk. He sank into the chair with a sigh of relief, just happy to be able to sit down for a moment. Silence washed over him and his fingers hovered over his laptop, the battle of whether to sleep or work playing out within. Life made the choice for him, however, in the form of his phone buzzing to life with a text.

It was Mingi.

—[ **text** ] mingoe! hey, can u meet tonight?

—[  **text** ] mingoe! i need someone to get chicken with

Hongjoong smiled at the messages, leaning back in his chair. Chicken sounded better than work that evening, and it would give him a bit of a break in a space Mingi could actually witness him relaxing in. 

—[  **text** ] joong. I guess I can clear my schedule.

—[  **text** ] joong. What new place opened?

—[  **text** ] mingoe! u kno me too well! it's called wingin' it!

—[  **text** ] joong. Alright. Text me the address and I’ll head over after a shower.

—[  **text** ] mingoe! yay! see u soon!

He pushed himself onto his feet again, staring down at the soundboard. Some ink from his scribbling had made it onto the corner, and one of the keys was finally starting to show wear. Hongjoong’s eyes carried fondness and he felt a little weird about not using it after havign spent a whole week essentially living at his desk. But Hongjoong could use some food and Not-Seonghwa time. Not that he didn’t enjoy his presence—if his sadness over an empty apartment wasn’t clue enough—but he was so bright compared to the burdens carried within Hongjoong’s soul. (As if Mingi didn’t fall into that category too, but Hongjoong wasn’t ready to have that conversation with himself yet.) Taking a deep breath, he went about getting ready.

By the time he was out the door and on his way, it was nearly seven. Ruffling damp hair, Hongjoong snatched his phone from the counter and hurried out. No more stairs either; after nearly a month, the elevator had  _ finally _ been repaired. He waved to someone at the other end of the hallway before swerving into the mini room containing the now-working elevator, finger stabbing into the button with a little more force than needed. Excitement hummed through him and he rocked on his feet. He hadn't seen Mingi outside of work since returning from the hospital and he wholeheartedly missed his friend.

One thing, though, that the duo seemed to forget in the short span between invitation and travel was, more unfortunately for Hongjoong, his awful sense of direction. He could walk in a straight line and still end up lost somehow. It was a fact neither stopped to think about, and though Hongjoong had clear cut directions to where he happened to be headed (there was even a damn voice in his headphones telling him where to turn) he still ended up riding a whole three blocks further than needed. Somehow, someway, he managed to loop back around and arrive at his destination … all while believing he should be going the opposite direction. He patted his phone as he hopped off his bike, turning it off.

“Trusty navigation, always getting me where I’m going!” But really, if the cosmos could laugh, they probably were.

Stepping inside the restaurant brought a whole new atmosphere washing over him. The venue was massive on the inside, everything wooden and sleek in design. A variety of scents, ranging from chicken, noodles, and more curled against his nose. His stomach rumbled lowly in response. Stairs to the right indicated an upstairs room as well and he shuffled awkwardly to the side, declining offers to be seated while he waited for Mingi to arrive. His wait only lasted a minute or two before Mingi came wandering through the door, face immediately brightening up upon sight of him. Hongjoong’s jaw dropped.

“Mingi … what did you do to your hair?”

Mingi greeted him with a wave. “I dyed it! What do you think?”

Hongjoong didn’t answer at first, simply taking in the pop of color. Mingi’s once dark hair was dyed a vividly bright shade of red. It was a jarring sight, especially for someone who just didn’t seem like the type to dye their hair, but it looked really, really good on him.

“It suits you more than you were probably thinking it would,” he replied, still lost in his staring.

Mingi laughed softly. “That’s good to hear. Guess why I did it!” He said in his signature singsong way. His friend stepped away, wandering over to the counter. Hongjoong followed, trying to find a reason for Mingi’s sudden change. 

They were led to their table upstairs, Hongjoong blinking in surprise at the large glass windows offering view into the outside world. Seoul’s night lights were coming on, offering an array of pretty colors to look at. Their table for the night happened to be right against the window itself, putting them away from most of the other patrons of the restaurant. Only the tables further down the way were occupied, with the largest one (mostly likely for parties) containing a multitude of people. Must’ve been someone’s birthday.

“Hey there! I’ll be your server for the evening. Anything to drink?” The waiter set some menus upon the table, and Hongjoong sank into his seat.

“Water please!” Mingi exclaimed, and Hongjoong asked for the same. They watched him scurry back down the stairs before looking to each other almost in-sync.

Hongjoong snapped his fingers. “You’re celebrating something.”

Mingi preened, pressing splayed fingers against his chest. “I’ll have you know, I got into the Oneus fansign!” He declared proudly. 

“Oh, congratulations! You’ve been trying for what, six months now?”

“As long as I’ve known you!” Mingi reached for his menu, combing through the various states you could order chicken in.

“So you dyed your hair to impress Hwanwoong then.”

“I would try to deny it,” Mingi said, not glancing up from his menu, “But you know me too well. Who else would I dye my hair for, Hongjoong?”

He leaned back in his seat, snatching up his menu as well. Lists of various foods he could order jumbled together upon the menu, some extra tempting with the pictures beside them; it would be difficult to choose. “I dunno, yourself? You’re the type to preen just because you can.”

“Taking care of the beautiful face you were born with isn’t  _ preening. _ ” The words were accentuated with a tiny qhite and Hongjoong chuckled.

“Yeah, and chickens fly.”

“Chickens  _ do _ fly! What school did you go to?” Mingi stared at him before busting into a laughing fit, making Hongjoong’s ears burn hotly at the realization of what he had said.

“Alright, listen …” Luckily for Hongjoong, he was spared further embarrassment as their waiter appeared again. They took turns placing their orders, each getting way more food than needed for two people, but it went without saying they’d finish all of it. Hongjoong’s main course for the night came in the form of a noodle dish he’d never heard of before but was eager to try. Once more, their waiter left them alone, looking a bit surprised at the amount of food written on the pad of paper he was clutching. 

Mingi rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “So … have you spoken to your neighbor since that day?”

He took a sip of his water, glancing at Mingi. This was a dangerous question he’d been anticipating ever since that night, knowing full well that Mingi’s curiosity would not allow him to just leave it be. The red-haired menace had a constant pool of it and never seemed to be satisfied no matter what kind of answer he got. Hongjoong had juggled how he would approach answering when he laid down to sleep, and he’d even rehearsed it in the shower a few times, but he just allowed his mind to go on autopilot.

“Uh … He stopped by to check on me but that’s it.” His fingers tightened around his glass of water, the coolness serving to ground him.

“Oooh,” Mingi cooed, tapping the table. “How nice! You gonna let me invite him over for dinner sometime then?”

“Well, he’s hardly ever home. It seems like he’s a really busy person.” Very, very much a lie. Seonghwa had all the time in the damn world right now.

“What about his dog then? That’s not very good ownership.”

“I’ve been taking care of Shiyu while he’s gone,” he said without thinking.

Mingi choked on his water, launching into a coughing fit. “Excuse me? You have the keys to his apartment?”

Hongjoong silently cursed himself for speaking without thinking. He just didn’t want Mingi to have the wrong idea of Seonghwa. And, now, he had to roll with it. Hongjoong felt just a little overwhelmed by how many lies he would have to weave to keep Seonghwa’s identity a secret but he knew it was a small price to pay, especially factoring in the trust Seonghwa had shown in him by sharing it in the first place. 

“Not … really? I just take her out in the morning and once when I get home.” Silence passed between them, Hongjoong feeling tension bubble in his stomach. 

“That guy is totally, like, your soulmate or something. Paying for your hospital bill, giving you the keys to his apartment, trusting you with his dog! The universe really just dropped him next door!” Mingi sat his glass against the table with a little too much force, sending a splash of liquid down his hand. “Keep him!”

Hongjoong offered an apologetic wave to the people a few tables over, assuring them that things were fine. “Soulmate seems like a bit of a stretch. Besides, I literally just met him a week ago. I’m only watching his dog, Mingi; it’s nothing interesting.”

_ Oh, but it was. _

“ _ Nothing interesting? _ He took you to the hospital and paid for your whole bill!” Mingi exclaimed. “That’s pretty interesting to me!”

“... Okay, he did do that, but again! It’s only been a week. We’ve barely spoken to each other!”

Mingi squinted at him, conveying he was unhappy with Hongjoong’s answer, but before he could comment further their waiter appeared with their food; he was spared from needing to scrape together something proper. The topic wasn’t brought up again, though Hongjoong could tell Mingi wanted to. Hongjoong was admittedly relieved when they finally parted ways for the night. He didn’t think he could handle anymore poking and prodding on such a hush hush topic that day.

As he stood up to leave the restaurant, he caught the eyes of someone seated at the large table in the distance. The moment lasted barely a second, but Hongjoong swore he felt a spark of familiarity. He blinked and turned away, leaving him feeling off-balance the rest of the evening.

Seonghwa didn’t visit that night.

—————— xxx —————

A few days later, while Mingi was out for the fansign event, Hongjoong was left to tend to the grooming station by himself. Their other coworker had called off that day, leaving him with a packed schedule and more stress than he could cope with.

When he was finally given an hour reprieve to clean the salon and take a lunch, it happened. He was scrubbing his usual tub when he suddenly became acutely aware of a pair of eyes trained upon him. Hongjoong didn’t pause to look around, however; he knew better. Instead, he did it naturally, turning to examine the rest of his schedule. He let his eyes comb through the store as much as he could until, finally, he found them.

A young woman, browsing the cat toy aisle to his left, kept stealing glances in his direction. Her face was covered partially by a mask and her long hair sat braided over her shoulder.

Hongjoong fancied himself as someone with a skill for people watching. Something about her, from a glance alone, made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He felt unsettled despite never meeting her eyes. The vibe from her direction felt off and, for someone who had once been tasked with reading body language, he did not make those accusations lightly.

The woman, perhaps noticing she had been spotted, turned her back to him. Hongjoong continued idly cleaning the grooming station, keeping her in his peripherals in case she tried something. What, he had no idea, and she never reached out to touch a single product—a shoplifter she was not. 

Hongjoong turned to pick up a treat container, intending on filling it. His eyes flicked back to the spot the woman had previously been in but, to his dismay, she had vanished. Upon not hearing the bell, his attention immediately turned to the side entrance. Sure enough, he barely caught a glimpse of her as she vanished out of view of the window. Moments of silence passed before Hongjoong allowed himself to take a breath. 

The feeling of unease simmering within didn’t leave even after he arrived home that evening. 

—————— xxx —————

The following weekend, Seonghwa invaded his apartment once more. He arrived holding a snack basket in one hand and several alcoholic beverages in the other. “Uh … I brought these over for, you know, a break.” 

Hongjoong just stared at him.

“You bought expensive wine and paired it with cheese sticks?” Hongjoong stepped back out of habit, allowing Seonghwa to stroll on in.

“People pair wine with cheese all the time! I don’t have fancy cheese so you get discount corner store, sorry.” Seonghwa laughed under his breath as he walked by, earning an amused head shake in response. The idol came to a quick halt, looking back over his shoulder. “You do like wine, right?”

“Do I look like someone who could afford wine?” Hongjoong replied, tone amused. He let the door shut and crossed his arms. “ _ Expensive _ wine,” he corrected, catching Seonghwa’s brow raise. “Alright, don’t answer that.”

Seonghwa set the basket down upon Hongjoong’s bed, shedding his jacket next; he draped it over the back of his chair. Then he plopped down on his bed without hesitation, apparently not all bothered by the tangled mess of Hongjoong’s sheets. “Well, is that a yes or a no on liking it? If not we can go pick up something else.”

Hongjoong hated wine, but he wasn’t going to say that outright. “I’m not a fan, so you can drink it.” He raised a hand to stop Seonghwa from speaking. “I have beer in my fridge though. We don’t have to go anywhere.”

“Then … cheesesticks?” Seonghwa replied, taking one from the basket and holding it out to him.

Hongjoong accepted it with a small shake of his head. “You’re something else, you know that?” He stepped back so he could swing the door to his refrigerator open and fish around for a can of beer.

“Is that … a good thing?” He heard Seonghwa question.

“Good thing,” Hongjoong reassured, sitting down at the opposite end of the bed. He popped open the can, listening to the satisfying hiss, and took a sip of it. 

“Then, I’m glad.” The idol mirrored his actions, pulling a bottle of wine from the basket. It wasn’t expensive wine like Hongjoong had assumed, he realized. The tops were screw-off caps instead of corks. Seonghwa opened one of them and took a bigger drink than even Hongjoong, the latter watching him with open interest. “Sorry to barge in on you if you were planning on working,” he finally managed, letting the bottle rest against his thigh.

“No,” Hongjoong responded, “I needed a break.” He reached over and set his beer on the table, redirecting his attention to tearing the cheese stick wrapper open. “What have you been up to lately? Or is that not a question I can ask.”

Seonghwa’s fingers visibly flexed against the glass. “Nothing exciting, I’m afraid. Mostly just boring meetings, though …” He trailed off, Hongjoong pausing mid-drink. “We have been discussing using one of your tracks as the title song. I shared some of your posted work with my CEO as well.”

Hongjoong swallowed a gulp of air, relieved he’d been smart enough not to have a mouthful of liquid in that moment. It sounded a little absurd in all honesty. Established companies didn’t just use random tracks from unknown producers. He suspected there was more influence at play from Seonghwa, or maybe something more on the line, and Hongjoong honestly felt a little in over his head. His life had changed so much in barely two weeks and though he had adjusted to the fact that Seonghwa now lived next door, there still remained plenty of thoughts and feelings to sift through. It all felt a little too good to be true. Hongjoong wasn’t sure why he felt that way, given Seonghwa had trusted him with such an important secret in the first place, but it curdled in the back of his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

“I haven’t finished anything yet,” he admitted, despite knowing that was a lie. 

“That’s okay! We’re not planning on a comeback anytime soon.” Seonghwa picked up one of the cheese sticks, staring down at it. “There’s no time limit, given I have no idea when I can move again.”

_ Move again _ … Hongjoong glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a strange feeling he didn’t have any right in experiencing pulling at his body. Seonghwa was only here to lay low from whatever issue he was having. This wasn’t permanent (then again, what was?) but Hongjoong hadn’t really entertained the thought of him moving like … at all. Which was admittedly kinda dumb on his part, but whatever.

Hongjoong took a bite out of his cheese stick—yes, he was one of _ those _ types—and stared at his soundboard across the way. 

“... Are you alright?” Seonghwa eventually questioned, lips pressing into a thin line.

“O-oh, yeah, just … lost in thought. Sorry.” Hongjoong finished the rest of his beer, rising so he could take care of the can. “I’m a little burnt out, I’ll admit, but I’m alright. Haven’t eaten any expired pizza either, promise.”

Behind him, Seonghwa laughed, and the sound made his heart flutter. “Good, you’re taking the pizza rule seriously then.”

“The doctor didn’t say no to pizza! Just no  _ four day old _ pizza,” he protested, turning with another beer in hand. 

“Yes, yes, I was there.” He sipped at his wine. “It’s not pizza, but I know a nice little restaurant out in the country.” Their eyes met, Hongjoong snapping his can open. “Would you be interested in going there tomorrow night? I did say I’d buy you dinner.”

Hongjoong mirrored the stare he’d done when Seonghwa first arrived, eyes wide and form unmoving.  _ Not a date, not a date, not a date, _ he chanted. “Uh, sure! I’m off tomorrow so …”

“Great!” Seonghwa replied, features brightening. “It takes about an hour to get there, so is around four a good time to leave?”

He walked back to the bed, gulping down half of his freshly opened can. “Four is fine. Gives me time to sleep,” he said, totally teasing.

They looked at each other and laughed, before Seonghwa offered him another cheese stick. The conversation drifted elsewhere, Seonghwa telling him a story about a music video he’d filmed. Hongjoong just watched him fondly, listening with his full attention upon the idol, until one of them had enough sense to glance at the clock. Seonghwa said his goodbyes and stumbled, clearly tipsy, down the hall to his own door.

It was the first time Hongjoong wanted nothing more than for him to stay.

—————— xxx —————

Hongjoong had imagined his reaction to be much, much different. His mind had fantasized how this moment would go down on so many occasions, cursing his father and storming off into the night with the same amount of courage he only seemed to find in the solitude of his room. But, standing in the moment and basking in the consequences of his actions, Hongjoong felt smaller than he ever had before.

Cheek stinging and eyes wide, never in his wildest dreams had he ever envisioned his father actually  _ striking _ him over an argument.

The man in question stood above him, somehow projecting himself to be even bigger despite only having two inches on him. His eyes, usually so calm and collected, were emblazoned with rage. The hand used to strike him was still balled tightly into a fist, held level with his head as if a debate on whether to punch him again still warred in his mind. 

“You are a disgrace,” he whispered at length. “I have raised you better than this.”

Hongjoong could not find words to combat him. His tongue, usually so sharp and quick, pressed against his teeth limply. He just stared up at his father, hand cradling the point of impact on his left cheek. 

Whatever thin veil of peace they had been dancing around for weeks had finally shattered.

“I raised a businessman, not a coward. You are not worthy of being a Kim.” The anger in the man’s form was clear, coiled and ready to snap at any moment. His fist uncurled to point an accusatory finger at the boy crumpled before him. “You ever embarrass me like that again and I will kill you. Do you understand?”

Hongjoong felt tears swell within his eyes despite him pleading internally for them to go away. Perhaps it was due to the shock, or perhaps it was the realization that the man before him was no longer his father. 

“ _ Do you understand? _ ” The man repeated, voice low and dangerous.

He visibly flinched as the man lowered his hand. “... I understand.”

“Good.” He turned, not offering apology or explanation, and stepped away from him.

Hongjoong stayed there for a good ten minutes as he fought to process what had happened. When he finally managed to find the strength to stand, he used the windowsill to pull himself upright. His fist went through the window in a heavy punch, glass tearing into his flesh in a welcome distraction of pain. Hongjoong shouted his frustrations into the courtyard beyond, his noise of anguish swallowed up by the rain crashing against the pavement.

With no one there to bear witness, Hongjoong made a choice.

—————— xxx —————

It’s not a date.

_ It’s not a date! _

“It’s not a date,” he repeated quietly, staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His fancy yellow button up said otherwise but he wasn’t in the mood to argue with that side of himself at the moment. It was loose-fitting and simple but it fit him well enough. He vaguely recalled buying it for a  _ ‘pups in the park’ _ event months back that got cancelled. It’d never been worn, simply sitting in his closet waiting for a perfect moment—a moment like today. Regarding himself in the mirror, he still felt it wasn’t appropriate, but he couldn’t change his outfit every four seconds.

Hongjoong hadn’t slept well at all that night despite the alcohol humming through him. Sometime near dawn, he’d shot up in bed as the realization of his lack of clean clothes set in, strategically sneaking down to the laundry facilities to wash  _ something _ for wear. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cared enough about what he wore.

One would think Hongjoong’s lack of wardrobe might make it easier but that was quite the contrary. Not even Mingi would believe he’d changed his shirt six times already. Hongjoong had specific outfits for specific occasions in his life, like going out clubbing or an adoption event or even a formal dinner. What he lacked was an outfit for a  _ date that wasn’t really a date, _ or anything worthy of being used on an actual one. He would go shopping after … whatever happened today happened. Of that much he was certain.

By the time Seonghwa showed up on his doorstep, Hongjoong was actually grateful to be doing something other than stress over his clothing choices. He was two steps away from yanking his own hair out by the time he heard a knock at his door. 

Hongjoong, sitting at his desk and pretending to work, snapped his attention to the sudden noise. Closing his laptop, he grabbed his phone and went to physically face his fears.

His mind went blank as he swung the door open.

Seonghwa had gone simple too, but simple looked so much better on him. He was dressed in all black, from his shoes to the choker at his throat, and finished off with a nice black overshirt, top two buttons undone. The shirt beneath had some sort of graphic design on it that Hongjoong couldn’t see completely, but it appeared to be the top of a koi fish. Seonghwa’s face lit up at the sight of him and he noticed the soft amount of makeup applied to his features. Hongjoong felt underdressed and unworthy to be in his presence.

“Good afternoon,” Seonghwa greeted, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other … holding Shiyu’s leash?

He looked down, spotting the little shiba standing by Seonghwa’s leg. She barked upon him acknowledging her. “Bringing Shiyu to a sitter?”

“Kinda,” he replied, the canine pawing at Hongjoong’s shoe. Hongjoong gave in and bent down so he could gently pat her ears. “I’m dropping her off with my parents for a week or so.”

His petting halted, hand hovering against Shiyu’s head. “... Oh? Are you going on a trip?”

Seonghwa laughed, catching him off guard. “No, they’re just used to borrowing her for the last two weeks of the month because of my schedules.” He moved back, Shiyu following after him. “They’re like … clingy grandparents.”

Hongjoong wasn’t ready to confront why that made him feel so relieved. So, he pushed himself to his feet and plucked his keys from the hook on his wall. “That’s honestly adorable,” he admitted, squeezing into the hall; he locked the door behind him.

“You think so?” Seonghwa questioned, allowing Shiyu to tug him down the length of the hall. 

Hongjoong linked his fingers behind his back and trailed after them. “I’ve never met my grandparents, so it’s … a novel concept to me.”

Seonghwa jabbed his finger into the down button for the elevator, looking to Hongjoong with thinly veiled surprise. “Really? You seem like the type to have an excellent relationship with your family.” The elevator dinged, doors sliding open.

“What gave you that vibe?” He questioned, leaning against the wall. The elevator lurched as they began their descent into the lobby.

Shiyu whined, Seonghwa comforting her gently. “I did a paper once on the relationship of grandparents to their grandchildren. People are friendlier when they grow up knowing them.” His focus moved to Hongjoong, expression soft. “You just have this nice vibe around you.”

Hongjoong didn’t know whether to say thank you or not. He did, however, experience his question reserves being topped off.  _ A paper? _ There had never been any information about Seonghwa’s education outside of high school and his prestigious entertainment university. Seonghwa had debuted a little later than most idols in the industry though, leaving a perfect amount of time for education outside of training. Sometimes people kept secrets just because they wanted to. Or, in Hongjoong’s case, because they  _ needed _ to. Still, it intrigued him.

His need to pry died as they reached the ground floor, Shiyu pulling Seonghwa from the elevator in a haste. The little dog hated it, as he found out, and wished to get as far away from the contraption as she could. Hongjoong once again followed behind as they exited the building and rounded it to the parking garage next door. His eyes traced the outline of Seonghwa’s frame as they went, thoughts racing with the same intensity as his bike. 

Seonghwa pulled his keys from his pocket, startling him a bit. They jingled as he raised them and his car beeped ahead of them. He popped open the back door, revealing a weird little hammock-like contraption taking up the whole backseat. 

Hongjoong paused at his bike, leaning against the seat as Seonghwa lifted Shiyu into the car and buckled a few straps into her harness. His brow rose as the other man met his eyes.

The idol just laughed, gesturing to the shiba. “It keeps her from falling and she can move to look out the other window! It’s practical!”

_ You’re like a parent, _ Hongjoong thought, just smiling. “Work sells those. You’re a good owner, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa’s lips parted for a moment, a faint blush flooding into his cheeks. Then he cleared his throat and gently shut the door. “Thank you, Hongjoong. The door is unlocked.” He rounded the other side, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Hongjoong followed suit, popping open the door and plopping down into the offered seat. It felt much different being in there a second time. He couldn’t put a finger on why the vibe had shifted. Perhaps it came with knowing who he was in there with.

“If you need to stop for anything along the way, please let me know.” Seonghwa slid the keys into the ignition and the car stuttered to life. “I have no issue making a rest stop.” 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Hongjoong replied. He buckled his seatbelt and then turned his attention upon the radio, fiddling with it just as he had the night of their embarrassing meeting. Seonghwa said nothing, allowing him to play with it as he saw fit. Only when he located the station sure to have Seonghwa’s music was he satisfied, leaning back into the seat and throwing a glance over his shoulder at Shiyu; she was a little preoccupied with staring out the window to acknowledge him. Her little tail was wagging cutely against her back.

Seonghwa cleared his throat, and Hongjoong’s attention snapped to him. His eyes remained focused on the road but he leaned over a bit. “We’ll be in the car for awhile so … wanna play a game?”

_ You’re like a parent _ and  _ a child, _ Hongjoong silently mused.

“What kind of game?”

“Like, a question game!” Seonghwa readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, straightening back out. “Twenty questions, I think is the name.”

He hesitated for a moment, earning him a curious glance. Hongjoong didn’t drag out the pause in conversation and instead refocused his attention upon the other man. Questions carried danger but the clear need to learn more about this man he had only ever admired through a computer screen won over. “Sure,” he affirmed, trepidation pulling at his muscles, “I’m down.”

“Then I’ll go first!” Seonghwa hummed softly, trying to come up with something worth asking. “Alright, simple things first. What’s your favorite food?”

“Ah … It’s chicken but like, from a street food vendor near my work.” He smiled fondly, eyes following the buildings as they passed in a blur. “I can take you there sometime. You know, if you’re interested and all.”

Seonghwa chuckled quietly, the blinker flicking on as he prepared to turn onto the highway. “I would love to. Maybe a follow up for this dinner, yeah?”

“That’s fine with me.” Didn’t stutter; nice. “Okay, my turn. What’s yours?”

“Chocolate pie,” Seonghwa responded without hesitation. “It’s absolutely delicious.” 

Huh, Hongjoong hadn’t pegged him as a chocolate pie kinda guy. Sweets yes, pie no. He seemed more like a cake person. 

“Hm …” Seonghwa began, “any siblings?”

Hongjoong purposefully kept his eyes pointed towards the window. “No. You?”

“A sister. She’s in America for an acting gig,” Seonghwa chuckled. “Though I suppose you already knew that.”

A blush rose in his cheeks and Hongjoong felt shame follow suit. He knew Seonghwa was a celebrity and, through that, granted a certain permission for details of his life to become public. Hongjoong was a big fan but he wasn’t a  _ super fan. _ (Yes, there was a difference.) That didn’t make him feel any better about it though. 

Seonghwa seemed to sense this, removing a hand from the wheel to offer a small wave. “Don’t fret over it, Hongjoong.” Their eyes met. “This is more for me to learn about you, if I’m honest.” The genuine sincerity in the idol’s eyes made his heart flutter.

About him? Why would Seonghwa … well, actually, it did make sense. He’d asked a complete stranger to produce a song for him. It was only natural he wished to know more about Hongjoong.

“O-oh. Then … what else do you want to know?” He twisted around to check on Shiyu; she was staring out the window, little tail wagging fast.

“You weren’t always in those apartments so … can I ask where you moved from?” Seonghwa asked, throwing him a glance.

Hongjoong chuckled, though it was filled with proof of the nerves squirming uncomfortably in his stomach. “Does this question game come with a free pass?”

Seonghwa whistled. “That just makes me even  _ more  _ curious.” The idol flicked the blinker on, merging into the other lane of traffic. “But I won’t pry if you’d prefer to keep that private.”

“I would appreciate it, yes.” Hongjoong tapped his fingers along his own thighs. “Maybe … another time. Thank you, Seonghwa.”

“Yeah, no worries! Sometimes we keep secrets because we have to.” Hongjoong glanced at him, having thought the same thing earlier. A shadow passed over the idol’s face then, and Hongjoong wondered what kind of painful memories existed within that shadow.

The rest of their drive was spent in sporadic silence, broken by soft giggles, music changes, and some whines and barks from Shiyu. Hongjoong’s nerves faded away the further they drove, exiting the city. Towering buildings turned into pretty trees and rolling hills, the gentle rumble of the car paired with the lull of music pulling him into a short nap. He was woken up again with an excited bout of barking as they pulled into a parking lot. 

Hongjoong squinted against the sunlight, looking out the window for an indicator of where they were. A large building sat before them, two stories at first glance, the lower wall on the front a perfectly pristine set of windows. Upon the halfway point was a sign reading ‘Golden Sun; Best pie in town!’ Was this their destination?

Seonghwa parked towards the back and turned the car off, noise aside from Shiyu’s excited whines dying out. He pulled the keys free and leaned back with a sigh. “Hey, Hongjoong, I want to ask you something.”

Hongjoong gave him his attention, even if he was still a little bit out of it. “Of course, Seonghwa.”

“This place … what you’re going to see … can you please keep it a secret? Not as a fan, but as a friend.” The idol’s head rolled to the side. His eyes held something that Hongjoong couldn’t name. “Please?”

He stared at him blankly for a moment as his brain processed what had been said. Hongjoong cleared his throat once his brain caught up. “Yes, of course. Won’t tell a soul.” Still, his curiosity spoke before his mouth could stop it. “May I ask why? Favorite spot and you don’t want fans here?”

“You could say that,” Seonghwa replied as he popped open his door and slipped out. 

Hongjoong followed and hopped out as well, taking in the magnificence of the building beyond. There were other structures around them but they were nicely spaced. Nothing like the city and its crowded confines. The atmosphere felt nicer. Where he was used to bustling cars and distant trains, here there were only the sounds of birds chirping and rustling leaves. Hongjoong inhaled slowly, enjoying the sense of calm that seeped into his bones.

“Coming, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa chuckled, closing the rear door. Shiyu was straining at her leash, yipping in excitement.

Here, he realized that something was amiss. “Wait, shouldn’t we drop Shiyu off first?”

“We are!” The idol called over his shoulder, following Shiyu’s lead as she pretty much dragged him to the door.

Hongjoong didn’t have time to question what that meant, giving his door a quick shove and hurrying after Seonghwa. “Are dogs even allowed in restaurants?” He called, but Seonghwa didn’t hear him over Shiyu’s loud whining. If someone wasn’t familiar with shiba inus, one may think she was being killed. Seonghwa stayed in the doorway just long enough for Hongjoong to reach it before he entered, leaving him to enter of his own accord.

The inside of the restaurant was decorated in an array of gold and silver, modern elements mixed with traditional. Soft music played through various overhead speakers, giving the establishment a very homely feel. There were a few other patrons inside, sitting evenly spaced apart and enjoying their meals. Hongjoong’s eyes traveled around the place in open-mouthed awe; Seonghwa had some good taste.

Speaking of Seonghwa, he put a stop to his gawking and trailed after him once more. He approached the counter, the man behind it shouting a ‘be with you in a moment!’ Hongjoong assumed he was the waiter given his uniform. The man turned right as he arrived, the waiter’s eyes going wide as they landed upon the duo. Shiyu began to yelp and yip as excitement consumed her tiny body.

“Seonghwa! You didn’t tell us you were coming!” The waiter exclaimed.

Beside him, Seonghwa chuckled, arms raising into a shrug. “Surprise! Nice to see you again, dad.” 

Wait …  _ dad? _

And, just like a children’s puzzle, the pieces fell into place.

The secrecy, Shiyu’s excitement, chocolate pie … holy shit. “Oh my god, your parents own a restaurant.” 

Seonghwa’s parents had always been off-limits from the public. Not a single soul knew their names, their occupations, where they lived—nothing. The idol had taken extra care in making sure no one knew of them or their whereabouts. Yet, here he was, standing in a restaurant owned by them, presented with a secret that Seonghwa had  _ somehow _ trusted him enough to share.

Again, holy shit. 

“Welcome to my home away from home, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa replied, smiling at him so fondly that he felt his heart squeeze. “This is my dad, Yeojun. Dad, this is my friend, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong bowed. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Yeojun chuckled. “No need to be so formal. Hongjoong. Any friend of Seonghwa is a friend of ours.” He walked over to the door most likely leading to the kitchen and popped it open. “Honey, Seonghwa came for a visit.” There was an excited voice from beyond where they could see.

Hongjoong rocked nervously on his feet, all the nerves from earlier coming back tenfold. He glanced at Seonghwa and silently cursed him. Meeting Seonghwa’s parents hadn’t been on his list of things to do this week. 

Seonghwa caught his eyes and smiled apologetically, before someone burst from the kitchen door and came hurtling around the counter. It was a woman even shorter than Hongjoong himself, Shiyu making the loudest noise yet. The woman hugged Seonghwa before bending to pat the little shiba’s head before she had an absolute fit. 

“Seonghwa! You should’ve called!” She exclaimed, rising back up to cup his face.

Hongjoong watched in awkward silence, feeling as if he were intruding on an intimate moment he had no right to see. Still, Seonghwa  _ had _ invited him.

“Sorry, mom. I’ll tell you why later, okay?” The idol motioned to him, Hongjoong straightening up a bit as they focused their attention upon him. “This is my friend, Hongjoong! I brought him to try some of your famous pie. Hongjoong, this is my mom, Jiwoo.” 

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he replied, watching as Shiyu propped herself onto her hindlegs and began pawing at the woman’s apron.

“The pleasure is ours. Feel free to sit down and we can figure out what to give you for dinner.” Jiwoo patted Shiyu again, the shiba’s tail wagging wildly. 

“I’m gonna run Shiyu upstairs first. I’ll be right back.” Seonghwa smiled in his direction. “Check the menu! I, of course, recommend the pie but dinner is important first.” 

Hongjoong responded with a wave of his own, watching as he walked to a staircase to the right of the kitchen. Shiyu followed happily and the pair vanished up the stairs, leaving him alone with Seonghwa’s parents. He glanced between them before shuffling to one of the stools at the counter. 

“Make yourself at home,” Jiwoo said. She slipped back into the kitchen, calling out to the staff Hongjoong couldn’t see, while Yeojun stepped back around the other side of the counter.

“Something to drink?” The man slid a menu onto the counter and pushed it towards him. “Rare to see Seonghwa bring friends by. Are you an idol too?”

“Oh, um, not really! I’m a producer.” Hongjoong placed his fingertips upon the menu and pulled it towards him, but he didn’t browse it just yet. “Water please.”

Yeojun nodded, plucking a glass from the counter and filling it. “Producer, huh? Now that’s even more of a rarity.”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, accepting the glass. “Well, I was his neighbor first. We just … naturally became friends.” He took a drink, gaze focusing on a distant point. “He has a good heart. You raised him well.”

This appeared to earn him some brownie points, Yeojun essentially glowing. “We’re both incredibly proud of him. I need to get back to work, but feel free to ask any questions.” Yeojun picked up a plate from the window counter behind him, containing a piece of pie, and Hongjoong smiled. 

He couldn’t wait to try one of those.

About halfway through the menu, Seonghwa finally arrived back downstairs. He joined Hongjoong at the counter, propping his elbow onto the counter. 

Hongjoong side-eyed him, noting the strangely chipper smile. “What? I know I don’t have anything on my face.”

“You made him smile, even though you just met him,” Seonghwa murmured. “He’s friendly, but it usually takes him a bit to warm up to new people. You’re really something else.”

“You overheard?” Hongjoong asked.

“I did, sorry.” He exhaled, glancing into the kitchen through the window. “Sorry for not telling you. I just … had a feeling you’d refuse otherwise.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Anyways … I think I’ll have some fried chicken!”

Seonghwa laughed, snatching a glass from behind the counter. “An excellent choice.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, filled with laughter and all traces of nerves fading away. He heard stories of Seonghwa as a baby, of all the trouble he used to get into, the smiles on his parent’s faces bright and inviting. Hongjoong had seen him happy before, both in his apartment and in interviews, but never to this degree. It was so much more genuine, so much more  _ real  _ when the pressure of cameras weren’t upon him.

And, just as promised, the chocolate pie was amazing, and the smile that bloomed on Seonghwa’s face made everything else pale in comparison.

—————— xxx —————

Seonghwa explained later that the restaurant was his parents’ entire life. They’d met at a culinary school in the city, sharing similar interests in pastries. His mother wanted to go into the wedding cake business and his father wanted to own a top notch restaurant one day. He still wasn’t sure why they’d settled in the country despite those dreams, but they’d bought what would eventually become the Golden Sun long before he was born. Seonghwa had been unplanned but they welcomed him with love and open arms. His sister followed two years afterwards. Both of them showed interest in the entertainment business from the moment they could comprehend the television. Despite wanting someone to take over the family business in the future, Yeojun and Jiwoo supported their children along the paths that allowed them to become what they were today.

And they were so good at it that not a single soul, via Seonghwa or his sister, knew of Golden Sun and the people who owned it. Purely for their safety, Seonghwa explained later. 

Sitting on Hongjoong’s bed, fiddling with one of those supposed impossible to solve puzzle cubes, Seonghwa finally explained why he was living in hell when he should’ve been enjoying luxury. In true Seonghwa fashion, he just dropped it on him.

Hongjoong was sitting at his desk, messing with the arrangement of a track he’d been working on for the last three hours when Seonghwa interjected.

“I’ve been … incredibly rude to you, Hongjoong, and I apologize,” Seonghwa suddenly murmured, wooden scraping noises following.

“What?” Hongjoong replied, spinning around in his chair. “Rude to me? You’ve been, like, the kindest person ever.”

Seonghwa sighed, keeping his gaze focused upon the cube. He continued to twist and turn the contraption. “I haven’t been truthful, and in doing so I’ve put you in danger.” 

His head tilted, confusion evident on his face. “What are you talking about?”

The fiddling stopped but Seonghwa still didn’t look at him, dropping his hands into his lap. His gaze stayed focused intently on the puzzle. “I … I moved here to hide.”

“... Okay,” he replied carefully. “What do you mean?” 

“We paid your neighbors to move, and I took over their lease. It isn’t under my name and never will be. People can’t know where I am.” Seonghwa lifted his head but still refused to look at him, his eyes unfocused and hazy. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”

Hongjoong said nothing, simply giving him his full attention.

“About five months ago, during promotions for Moonrise, I was approached while resting in the waiting room by a young woman. She introduced herself as a staff member and we chatted for a bit. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and she was very kind.” Seonghwa began to fidget with the puzzle cube again to distract his hands. “I guess she connected more through the conversation than I had. She followed me out once my performance was done and another staff member spotted her, saying she wasn’t allowed on the premises. Apparently she’d done the same thing a few weeks before to someone else. Unfortunately for me,” Seonghwa mumbled, inhaling, “I became her next target.”

“Her next target?” Hongjoong questioned softly. 

“She began to show up at every performance following. Every fanmeeting, every variety show, every public event. I would see her everywhere. At first, it was fine. Many of my fans attend every event and I enjoy seeing them there. But then … then she began following me home. No one knows my dorm address. We purposely keep it from Sunrise’s database for this reason.” Hongjoong recognized the familiar click as Seonghwa managed to pop the puzzle cube open. He stared down at it in stiff silence. “She wouldn’t leave me alone. Everywhere I went, she was there. I met up with friends, she was right around the corner. If I took Shiyu for a walk, she’d follow behind me. I began to get so anxious I wasn’t eating or sleeping properly, waiting for the night she would finally break into my dorm.”

His shoulders drooped as he remembered the span of time where Seonghwa wasn’t seen in over a month. He’d vanished much like he had now and the few times fans had spotted him outside, he’d looked worn down and ragged, tired and exhausted. He imagined Seonghwa alone, clinging to Shiyu in silence as he waited for any sort of noise indicator, and his brows furrowed. How could someone do that to an idol they supposedly loved? Put them through such awful emotional strain that they barely left their house? 

“Is that why you’re here now?” He finally whispered, the atmosphere pressing heavily upon them. “Because it finally happened?”

Seonghwa’s bottom lip quivered, his eyes growing glassy; Hongjoong recognized what was about to happen and closed the space between them. He sat upon the bed, offering his hand. The idol took it and gave him a gentle squeeze; he was shaking. “I came home from a shopping trip to find my living room destroyed and this girl trying to drag Shiyu out of my dorm. I called the police and they arrested her, but the charges didn’t stick for some reason. That night, I stayed with Youngjo, and then we figured out where to move me temporarily … which ended up being here. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone who I am but …” Seonghwa squeezed his hand again and for the first time since his story began, their eyes met. He looked so vulnerable and open. “Something about you made me trust you right away. Everyone at Sunrise aside from Youngjo thinks I’m talking to you online. They don’t know I’m actually your neighbor.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” Hongjoong replied immediately. “Not even my best friend. I promised, remember?”

Seonghwa smiled weakly. “I know. I know I can trust you, Hongjoong.”

“You’ll get through this,” he continued. “You’re strong, and you have so many people to support you. I’m no one in the grand scheme of it all but I’ll help in any way I can. I can go shopping for you and pick up food if you need it.”

“Thank you, Hongjoong. For now, I’m alright. She lives on the other side of the city so I’d be a little surprised to see her here.” Seonghwa let go of his hand and began to mess with the cube again, twisting and turning as he returned it to its original state. 

“And … I’m not afraid. Even if we are in danger, I’m not afraid. You helped me, now it’s my turn to help you.” Hongjoong gently patted his shoulder. “I’ll be your support, even if you feel you don’t need it.”

“I knew you were good from the moment I laid eyes on you,” Seonghwa replied, voice barely above a whisper. “I knew I could trust you no matter what.”

“Always, Seonghwa. You can always trust me.” Hongjoong pushed himself to his feet, hand lingering on the idol’s shoulder. “I’ll order us some food, okay?”

Seonghwa just nodded weakly and Hongjoong took a deep breath; his exhaustion was etched clearly into his features. 

He hadn’t been expecting Seonghwa to share such a personal thing with him. Deep down, Hongjoong had always known there was another reason for his moving there. There had to be, given the state of the complex. Seonghwa was hiding … just as Hongjoong was. Even though the idol had just shared the reason for it with him, even though he’d just put all of his trust into someone who still counted as a stranger, Hongjoong couldn’t bring himself to do the same. Maybe one day, when they were closer and he could look in the mirror without seeing his father staring back at him.

The atmosphere lightened a bit around dinner but not by much. They didn’t speak of it again, Seonghwa switching out his puzzle for a book. He spent the rest of the evening reading on Hongjoong’s bed while he focused on his work until, finally, the clock hit one in the morning. Seonghwa waved goodbye and wandered down the hall, and Hongjoong’s lips pressed into a tight line as he watched.

If only he knew what the future had in store.

—————— xxx —————

_ “You’ll never be free of me, Hongjoong. No matter where you go or what you do, I will find you.” _

_ Hongjoong’s grip tightened upon the payphone, gaze focused intently on his reflection in the glass. His anger was palpable in the air, hot and heady despite the rain crashing down upon him. His resolve resonated throughout every bone in his body. Never had he been so determined before, his survival instincts going into overdrive.  _

_ Finger hovering over the disconnect button, he steeled his nerves. “Unfortunately for you, I was raised to be your successor. Now I’ll become the weapon against you. You’ll never find me, dad. As long as I live and breathe, I will never return home.” _

_ His father’s protest was cut off as he jabbed his finger into the disconnect button, slamming the phone back onto the hook. Pulling his hood up and bending down to pick up a single bag, Hongjoong grimaced. _

_ So began a life of fleeting jobs and empty boxes, his name lost within towering apartment buildings and throngs of busy people. _

_ Hongjoong turned himself into no one until the day he was forced to become someone. _

—————— xxx —————

Hongjoong yawned as the sound of his phone ringing cut through his slumber. He felt around for it, the device buried in his blankets along with him; he answered without glancing at the screen, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Hello?” He asked sleepily.

“Hongjoong! You’re late again!” His manager’s exasperated voice cut through.

Hongjoong sat up immediately, silently cursing himself. He scrubbed at his temple. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“This is your last warning, Hongjoong,” the man replied with a sigh. “I can’t keep pulling strings for you.”

“I know, I know.” Slipping from his bed, he began to feel around for his pants in the darkness. “It won’t happen again, I swear.”

“Please try to keep that promise this time.” His manager hung up before he could answer again and Hongjoong sighed, arm dropping at his side. 

God, he was such a fool. Forgetting to set his alarm was sure to get him fired. Perhaps he should make a reminder in the evening. Tossing his phone onto the bed, Hongjoong quickly located his uniform and slipped it on. He didn’t have a moment to spare and was out the door after a skillful snatch of his keys and wallet, especially when he was already on thin ice. 

His mind felt cloudy and unfocused the entirety of work. Hongjoong could feel himself going through the motions but subconsciously, he was elsewhere. Perhaps it was a result of the scolding he received upon arrival or perhaps it was the lack of Mingi that day. Mingi had managed to weasel his way into another fansign event following the first and he’d been gushing about it since. Hongjoong felt a little guilty as he continued tidying up his work station. He’d been so caught up in Seonghwa that he hadn’t hung out with Mingi in weeks. Making up his mind to call him once work was done, Hongjoong scraped together a little more energy and got back to work.

The rest of his shift passed in a blur. He expected it to drag on given his unfortunate start that morning but the shop became so abuzz with customers that he could barely keep up. There were so many people in the afternoon that his manager had to personally count how many people were in the store at any given time. Mostly young girls, giggling and cooing over the various pet products scattered about the store. Hongjoong was even forced to break up a small fight over a dog leash.

As he was hanging it back up, he understood why.

The display was new, most likely installed over the weekend, and Hongjoong realized what Seonghwa had been up to during his absences. He was holding a small pomeranian in his arms, the little dog wearing a bright pink harness with an equally pink leash threading into one of Seonghwa’s hands. Why it had been released now, after Seonghwa had just shared his intent on laying low, was beyond him. Though he supposed it kept his fans happy. Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, staring hard at the display. Had Seonghwa not moved in, had he never met him, would he be acting the same way?

The thought of that stuck with him the rest of his shift, dragging at his heels every step of the way home. Hongjoong had never been a wild, over the top kind of person. He was, arguably, a normal guy with an average life. Had he met Seonghwa on the street, without being saved by him, would they still have connected in such a way? Most likely not. Even then, Hongjoong couldn’t see himself being an overbearing annoying fan, and perhaps that was why Seonghwa trusted him so easily.

They weren’t that different when you truly thought about it.

Along the way, he gave Mingi a call.

_ “Hongjoooong,” _ his friend’s voice crackled through the other end. “It’s about time you gave me a call!”

“Hey Mingi! Sorry for the quiet on my end,” he laughed.

“Don’t worry about it. I haven’t exactly kept up either.” 

Hongjoong kicked a pebble, watching it bounce down the sidewalk. “True. How have you been? Any plans tonight?”

“I’ve been great!” He could hear Mingi’s excitement clearly. “I met Oneus at the fansign and they’re all so nice. They were so surprised but also excited to see someone like me there.” A bit of shuffling echoed through the line. “I’m free tonight. Why? Wanna sneak off and get some dinner?” A soft giggle. “Maybe bring your mysterious neighbor?”

Hongjoong stumbled, startling a bird into flight.  _ Think fast, Hongjoong. _ “He’s, uh, out of town.”  _ Nailed it. _

“Aw, that’s too bad!” Mingi, much to Hongjoong’s relief, just accepted it. “I have some leftover soup and beef. Want me to bring it over?”

Hongjoong quickly pulled his phone away from his ear and turned the screen on. Alright, it was only four. Seonghwa was supposed to be out until seven that evening. (Don’t ask him how he knew that.) So it should be fine. Raising his phone again, he nodded despite knowing Mingi couldn’t see him. “Yeah, sounds great! I’m gonna need a quick shower so head over in like twenty minutes, okay?”

“Okay! See you soon, Hongjoong!”

His smile practically beamed as the call went dead. Mingi was an unlikely friend in a place he never thought he’d stay longer than a month. Yet, he was still here, inevitably setting down roots. Hongjoong’s only hope was that they lasted. 

The rest of his walk was uneventful, and the elevator ride up was eerily quiet. There was no Shiyu bark in greeting as he walked by Seonghwa’s apartment that evening and though he knew where both residents were, it still saddened him. Hongjoong grappled with himself as he unlocked his door and stepped inside. They were … friends now, right? So he had every right to miss him, idol or not. Hell, he’d even met his parents. His steps ground to a halt as his door slowly swung shut behind him.

“Oh my god, I’ve met his parents.” The sound of his voice startled him. How had he gone from a mere stranger to meeting Seonghwa’s parents in less than a month? How had he ended up living the very life so many people fantasized about?

Would Seonghwa think differently of him if he knew Hongjoong’s parents too?

Shaking his head, Hongjoong tossed his keys onto his bed. He willed himself to think of something else as he made his way to the shower but it didn’t really work. Standing beneath the hot water, his mind wandered to every unpleasant nook and cranny Hongjoong wasn’t thrilled about revisiting. The boxes of his previous life had remained unpacked for so long that he wasn’t even sure he could stand ripping the tape free again.

Hongjoong had just finished throwing his clothes on when Mingi arrived, his hands rubbing a towel into his hair. “It’s unlocked!” He called.

The door swung open, revealing Mingi in the doorway. His red hair had been redyed recently, still bright and vibrant, and the same old bright smile Hongjoong was fond of sat proudly on his face. “I come bearing soup!” He stepped inside, shaking his shoes off. 

“Soup!” He held out his hand and Mingi forked over the plastic bag he was holding. Hongjoong slipped it into the fridge, promising to eat it later. “How did your fansign go?”

“It went amazing!” Mingi’s little dance was reflected in the silver kettle upon his stove. “Hwanwoong remembered me from the first one.”

“Oh sweet!” He turned, leaning back against the counter. “Are you feeling confident enough to audition yet?”

“Hell no! They performed during the fansign and I felt so intimidated.”

Hongjoong huffed a laugh. “Alright, understood. Other than the fansign then, how have you been? Sorry for not, like, shooting you a text.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it!” Mingi replied with a wave. “I mean, I didn’t text you either. I’ve been fine. Sometimes our schedules just don’t line up, you know?”

That was true. Hongjoong parted his lips to answer when a knock at his door caught their attention. He wasn’t sure why his brain didn’t assume all possibilities at that moment. Perhaps his mind was so fixated on Seonghwa being gone until later that it had decided there was no way he could possibly be there. Hongjoong, knowing that his neighbor was a celebrity in hiding, somehow immediately assumed that the unannounced visitor was a postal worker with a package to deliver … despite having not ordered anything for weeks.

“Expecting someone else?” Mingi asked.

“Probably just a delivery,” he answered with a shrug. Hongjoong crossed from the kitchen to the door, shimmying by Mingi. He heard the sound of his chair being rolled back before the sound of something hitting the floor echoed behind him. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he realized Mingi had disappeared.

“I’m okay!” His friend called, a hand popping up from beyond the other side of his bed. “Just tripped over something!”

Hongjoong just shook his head and went back to answering the door, pulling it open with little caution. In his mind, it was still a delivery. Instead, he was met with Seonghwa standing just beyond … with Kim Youngjo and Yeo Hwanwoong standing just beyond him.

His jaw dropped.

Behind him, he heard shuffling as Mingi most likely pulled himself upright. “Hongjoong,” his friend gasped, “I think I have a concussion.” 

Seonghwa glanced between Hongjoong and Mingi, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “... Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” 

Hongjoong did his own fair share of staring, peeking around Seonghwa at the  _ other _ two idols that were suddenly at his doorstep. Maybe he had a concussion too. Maybe he passed out at work and this was all a fever dream.

“You two really need to exchange numbers,” Hwanwoong quipped. 

“Oh my god,” Mingi gasped behind him. “This isn’t happening.” 

Hongjoong threw another glance over his shoulder, watching Mingi collapse back beyond his bed. “Gotta say, this is not how I thought my evening would go.”

“Sorry, I should’ve left a note,” Seonghwa apologized. “I didn’t expect you to have company. Is, um, he gonna say anything …?” He questioned. The concern was understandable. 

“Uh … hey Mingi, you can keep this a secret right?” Hongjoong asked. He was surprised at his own nonchalance over this. Seonghwa he was used to. One of Sunrise’s greatest producers? Not so much.

“So this  _ isn’t _ just a dream? I’m not, like, dead?” Mingi asked, just his eyes visible.

“Very much not dead,” Youngjo chuckled. “Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t run into Seonghwa before, given you’re neighbors.”

And just like that, the dam broke.

“Wait, the hot guy who saved you that night, the guy who paid your hospital bill, the guy that you dogsit for, is  _ the _ Park Seonghwa?” Mingi exclaimed. 

“Hot guy!” Youngjo laughed, Seonghwa frowning at him.

Still, Seonghwa took it in stride … even if Hongjoong was currently dying of embarrassment. “Yes, I’m that Seonghwa.” His attention turned back to Hongjoong, the latter’s heart doing a flip. “May we come in? I brought over Youngjo to see if he can help you out of this rut you mentioned.”

“Oh my god, Oneus are here,” he heard Mingi whisper. Quiet enough that those outside couldn’t hear, but loud enough that Hongjoong could.

“S-sure? There isn’t much space though.” Hongjoong stepped to the side.

“You should see our dorm room,” Hwanwoong replied with a giggle. He followed Seonghwa and Youngjo as they stepped into his apartment. “Two people to a room is rough.” The shorter dancer did a quick once over of Hongjoong’s living space. “Cozy! I’m Hwanwoong by the way, though I’m sure you already knew that.”

Hongjoong slowly shut the door behind them, watching Mingi lift something up—the puzzle cube Seonghwa had been fiddling with the night before. He must’ve forgotten it; Hongjoong guessed that’s what he tripped over. “I’m Hongjoong, and this is my friend, Mingi.”

Hwanwoong’s face lit up at the sight of him. “Wait, you’re the guy from the fansign! Small world, huh?”

“Please do not perceive me,” Mingi whined, but it was too late.

A collective round of laughter echoed in the room. Despite the three celebrities standing mere steps from his bed, Hongjoong was surprisingly calm. For all of his excitement (and fear) over Seonghwa sharing his music with Youngjo, he just felt … normal. Hongjoong did not enjoy addressing just why that was a thing, so he chose to step over it.

“Well, I guess we have a change of plans, Mingi. Dinner here?” He asked.

Mingi gave him a thumbs up, gently setting the puzzle cube on the sheets. “Sounds great,” he replied feebly. It was clear he lacked the same calm Hongjoong was feeling, understandably so. Not like your favorite idols just waltzed into your friend’s apartment every day.

“Apologies for the inconvenience. Let me buy this time,” Seonghwa said, smiling gently.

Hwanwoong cheered, Youngjo gently shoving his arm before Hongjoong could reply. Well, that settled it then. 

The rest of his evening was spent sitting on his bed, Youngjo on one side and Seonghwa on the other as they combed through the various tracks Hongjoong had been working on. None were worthy enough for Seonghwa, at least in his mind, but Youngjo wasn’t shy with how impressed he was. He even asked for permission to replicate one of them for a Oneus song and Hongjoong felt his pride swell. Maybe he wasn’t doing so badly after all. Maybe he was just being too hard on himself. Either way, Youngjo’s encouraging words and obvious excitement over his talent helped boost his confidence more than he would ever admit aloud.

As for Mingi, his night became an interesting turning point. Once he overcame his clear starry-eyed excitement, he sat down to have a conversation with Hwanwoong. They ended up on Hongjoong’s tiny balcony, him stealing glances through the open doors as they stared out over the city and chatted away. Hongjoong smiled, prompting Seonghwa to give him a quizzical look, but he played it off.

Eventually, they paused to order dinner and their producing session came to a halt. They laughed and ate together, just like they were old friends, and Hongjoong and Mingi were given a glance at the dynamic between the three of them. Mingi was, of course, sworn into secrecy and after some teasing from Hwanwoong, Hongjoong and Seonghwa exchanged phone numbers. He also received Youngjo and Hwanwoong’s numbers. Mingi was given them too after Hwanwoong snatched his phone and inputted them on his own, Mingi’s face masked in shock. 

Three hours passed in a blur and soon their little gathering came to an end. Youngjo and Hwanwoong gathered up their things, waving a goodbye. “We’ll be in trouble if we’re not back by curfew,” Youngjo explained. “Text me when you finish some more tracks!” Then they were gone. 

Mingi visibly sagged after they left the room, his friend collapsing onto his bed and clutching his chest. A bit dramatic, making him smile, but also understandable. 

“Are you heading home too?” Hongjoong asked, glancing at Seonghwa.

“Mm .. probably. I could really use a shower.” The idol plucked his jacket from the bed. “I’ll text you later,” Seonghwa promised, stepping towards the door. “Again, sorry for just dropping in unannounced.”

“Don’t worry about it. Mingi is the only person who visits so it shouldn’t be a problem.” He glanced between his friend and Seonghwa. “He’s a good guy, I promise. No way will he ever tell anyone.”

“I know, I trust you guys.” Seonghwa smiled at him then, Hongjoong’s mouth going dry at the beauty of it. “Thanks for letting us visit. This was nice, Hongjoong. It’s … been awhile since I’ve had this much fun.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly, “me too.” For Hongjoong, the first time. “Thanks for bringing them by. It helped, honest.”

“I’m glad. Talk to you later, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa opened the door before he paused, waving towards Mingi. “It was nice to meet you!”

“N-nice to meet you too, Seonghwa,” Mingi replied, his surprise clear in his voice. 

Then Seonghwa was gone, and Hongjoong watched the door slowly shut behind him. Somehow, he felt something had changed. Just a small shift, barely noticeable and entirely unspoken, but still enough that Hongjoong could identify and acknowledge it. Whether Seonghwa felt it too he didn’t know but he had a feeling he did. Seonghwa had not gotten away with hiding this long without perception.

Clutching his phone to his chest, Hongjoong took a breath. Fate flipped the next card in their deck of fate.

—————— xxx —————

Early the next morning, while Hongjoong was still in the haze of sleep, his phone lit up with yet another phone call. He answered without hesitation, believing it to be his manager making sure he had gotten up in time. Hongjoong was met with static, loud and grating, and he yanked his phone away from his ear. The screen lit back up with the indicator of an ‘unknown caller.’ 

“I know who you are, Hongjoong,” a woman’s voice called through the line.

His entire body froze, thumb hovering above the ‘end call’ button.

“I know all about you … Where you live, where you work,” the woman said with a giggle, “who your neighbor is.”

“Fuck off,” he exclaimed automatically, but he still couldn’t bring himself to end the call. Something compelled him to listen further.

“Stay away from him,” she continued, voice gaining such a dangerous tone that it sent a chill down his spine. “He’s mine. Only mine, and I’ll ruin you to keep it that way.”

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened; it didn’t take a genius for him to know who the unknown caller was referring to. Palm flattening on the sheets, he sat up, the shadows around him reeling back. If he could escape from a mafia boss hellbent on destroying him, then he could handle anything. “I’d like to see you try.” His thumb came down on the ‘end call’ button and the line went dead. Hongjoong exhaled, hand tightening around his phone. 

Whatever the future had in store, he knew he could handle it.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! part two will take a bit, but I hope you enjoyed the first part!
> 
> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) (18+ pls) for more content!
> 
> thank you for reading!!


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